Written in the Scars (Joshaya)
by bblossom
Summary: Josh finds himself in an accident, and soon wakes up in a hospital room several weeks later. It's not until then that he finally sees the one person, whose voice he's grown fond and accustomed to hearing. He never understood true love preceding his accident, although all of that may be starting to change.
1. Chapter 1

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter One || _Sleeping Beauty_.

One minute everything appears normal, like there's not a single action humanly capable that could change the way things are happening. You start to believe perfection is a good thing, and that you could do no wrong. It's like being on cloud nine; your thoughts are free, your footsteps are lighter, and your eyes envision endless possibilities. You want to accomplish any and everything imaginably probable, despite the inevitable consequences. You become blind to the circumstances, and block out all voices telling you— _do not_. You don't think about the inadequate until it's too late; when everything seems, hopeless and lost. Then suddenly you want to go back, and stop yourself from being so remarkably foolish, but soon realize you can't.

Although reality is, you never had those voices in your head to begin with.

No one around warning you of the bad just at the end of the tunnel. No one to miss you if something inexplicable were to happen, and no one there to hold you in their arms. There's no warmth to feel, and no love in your heart because you're too used to being alone. Albeit, truthfully expecting it. You stare closely at the happy families and love stricken couples prancing around you, and merely bow your head as you know you could never have what they do. You want a sense of what it's like to kiss the one you're madly in love with, and to listen as they list all the things they admire about you; however, you were never that fortunate enough.

Your relationships usually end in heartache, leaving your once lover with a broken heart. You try to take the blame, to be convinced everything was your fault, although, unable to because you knew all along that it just wasn't meant to be. Now you're lying up in a hospital bed with your eyes closed, your heart barely pumping, and your last memories being only of brilliant headlights and a boisterous car horn. You can hardly wiggle your fingers, while the rest of your muscles feel stiff. You desperately want to part your lips to speak, but evidently cannot. However, the blatant sound of voices traveling through one ear and out the other keeps your motivation induced—a desire to wake up and see just whose voice it belongs to feeling a lot like a sugar rush. Nevertheless, the sad thing being that you're unaware of how long you've been unconscious, and no idea how much longer it will continue.

Maybe it's just like _Sleeping Beauty_. With a soft kiss to the lips, you can wake up in a matter of seconds; however, only by the means of an apparent true love. Although, how much of a guarantee is it really? After all, you never had a true love preceding your sudden accident, and now you may be lying in your deathbed. Desperate, you only want to open your eyes again, and take in all that comes with the one life we all are promised. You want to smell the flowers, feel raindrops on your face, and gaze at the sun until you can't help but finally look away. You want to listen to music, laugh with the ones closest to you, and sleep for hours on a Sunday.

Isn't it funny how it could take only a single kiss to grant that one last chance?

One gentle, lingering touch, and suddenly your soul is back within your body. Don't worry, though because you may be _Sleeping Beauty_ now, but you won't be for much longer.

.::.

"How long has he been like this?"

"At least three weeks now. Although, he is making astounding progress. I can assure you he should be waking up a lot sooner than we originally drafted."

I could clearly recognize the voices. One I had heard for most of my entire life, and the other of someone, who's been by my side almost the whole time of me being captive within this unfamiliar place. I could plainly decipher one of them to be crying, while the other only seeming to babble constant judgement and reassurance. There wasn't anything I could do in that moment, and it pained me by the second.

I'm helpless, and currently unable to even curl my toes, let alone speak a full sentence although, I guess I asked for this. I must've thought myself to be indestructible or something if I thought I could safely travel through the most dangerous part of town, and make it out alive. What was it that I was even trying to prove?

"And how can you be so certain?"

"We've been conducting several tests with him in terms of arousing his unconsciousness, and he's been responding very well. Just trust that we're doing everything that we can."

"If you were really doing everything that you could, then he would be awake already!"

Her shouts were exhilarating. For as long as I've known her, she's always stuck up and cared about me like no one else has. It's one of the many things I love about her, although despite regularly telling her so, did words still not feel like enough. Everybody is triumphant enough to have at least one person consistently by their side, and I'm glad to have had mine for countless years now.

Who knows? She may even be the one to discontinue this faux fairy tale.

"Nevertheless, I do advise you to leave now, Miss. I realize you're worried and upset, but we do have other patients to tend to."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep, Doctor! You believing him to wake up and him _actually_ waking up, are two totally different things! Now I don't know about you, but him never opening his eyes again is not an option, so you and your nurses better get to work the minute I step out of this room, or there _will_ be problems!"

"Understood."

I could hear nothing else after that. Nothing aside from the sound of feet stomping further and further away, followed by the noise of a door clicking shut. Regardless, soon sensing a presence hovering above me with their shadow blatantly casting down.

"Alright Mr. Matthews, I'm sure you've heard all of that. Time for us to get started then," he says, "Maya Hart, please report to room A234. Maya Hart to room A234, please." I hear through an intercom.

The mention of said name then suddenly gets me excited—as excited as I could manage to pertain, anyway, and even unconscious did I learn all I needed to.

Her touch is genuinely beseeching, and the perky tone of her voice honestly soothing and hypnotic. Her sincerity pushes me to prevail, and the image of her I've created in my mind hopefully just as beautiful as the real thing. I may not have been able to move, though my hearing still at its best since the accident.

A dedicated volunteer of this hospital, her voice always sounding cheerful and just as vibrant as her blonde hair, I'm sure. Sometimes I can even sense myself beginning to smile anytime I know she's near, and when she lightly strokes my skin with her touch as she tends to me. She easily makes my heart palpitate, and no other nurse can like she does.

"You call for me, Dr. Warner?"

"Yes, please stay here with patient Joshua Matthews a moment, while I retrieve said medications for him."

"Of course,"

She agrees to the demands so willingly, and despite not being able to see her face, I know she's smiling right now, too.

Later, some more footsteps and the closing of the door, and I know now that it's just us two. She eventually starts walking up to my bedside, and I'm certain the look on her face to be placid. Afterwards, I can feel her touch—that same subtle touch she gives me anytime we're together. I swear, I just want to hurry and open my eyes, so I can finally get a glimpse of her before she possibly leaves for whatever reason. Her calming voice then quickly flows through my ears.

"Patient Joshua Matthews," she says to herself, "22. Car accident. Driving while under the influence of drugs. Has been coma induced for nearly a month."

I couldn't tell if she were reading a file, or simply reciting everything she knew about my situation. Either way, I didn't want her to stop. The more she keeps talking to me, the more at ease I _think_ I feel.

"Why do I get the sense you're suddenly doing all of this for fun?" She says and laughs. "You're pretending to be unconscious because you're enjoying all of the attention and affection."

I could hear the humor in her voice. She knows deep down I'm not faking it, and if I could wake up right now, I would. Regardless, I couldn't lie—the constant attention and affection _is_ something I will surely miss when all of this is said and done. Her playful attempt to make a joke is cute and hilarious, though. Maya then softly intertwines my hand with hers, and I can feel her cautiously easing her way down onto the side of my bed to sit. Her grip is firm, and soon she begins to hum. It's the tune of a random song that I had to think long and hard about to remember.

 _Just Give Me A Reason_.

Her humming then later turns to temperate singing, and immediately had that been one more thing I learned about her. Her voice is beautiful and serene, and the mellow tone of it basically addicting. I wonder if she sings to all the patients she looks after, or if I'm a special exception.

I hope for the latter.

"Okay Maya, thank you. I can take it from here." The doctor's voice echoes as he reenters the room.

"You mean, you don't need me to assist you at all?"

"We both know how this goes. I allowed you to aid me the first few times to help with your experience, but it's just implementing some medications. I'll be fine. Besides, you're needed in the baby delivery room as of now, so would you please?"

"Uh, yes. Certainly." Maya says, and her jovial tone of voice momentarily subsiding.

"Thank you. Now hurry." The doctor urges, and Maya hesitantly exists the room.

She didn't want to leave, that much is obvious, nor did I want her to go either. My side where she once sat now feels empty, and my hand's warmth slowly turning back cold again. I long for her to be next to me, and hopeless to have my eyes someday look in to hers.

My conscience tells me I have no love in my heart because I'm too used to being alone. Well, couldn't that all change? I mean, medications and therapy clearly aren't working, and nothing else is left to try except the infamous fairy tale kiss that usually ends with a happy ending.

I only wonder now, how do you get someone to kiss you when they haven't the slightest clue of what you're asking for?

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW**_ , _the feedback is always helpful and motivating._ _This is a new Joshaya story I'm thinking of continuing, so what do you all think of the introduction thus far?_

 **Recap:**

Josh has gotten himself into an accident due to driving under the influence of drugs, and has been admitted into the same hospital Maya is volunteering at. With this also being an AU, I made it where Maya and Josh don't know each other leading up to their encounter in the hospital. The mystery girl talking to the doctor will also be introduced further with the next possible chapters I write.

Once again, **please review** , and thanks to all that read and followed. Much appreciation!


	2. Chapter 2

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Two || _Three Minus One_.

You can slowly feel yourself wanting to give up with each day that goes by. You're beginning to lose patience, and you can't take the constant inability to move anymore. It's all becoming unbearable, and the fire that's currently sparking inside of you is hopelessly starting to flicker in and out. Your body feels cold, empty now that the warmth is gradually disappearing, and there's hardly anything left capable of turning things around. Death feels as though it's approaching at the rate of the speed of light, but surprisingly, you're entirely unfazed by the intimidating welcome call. Your heart is urging you to quit, while your mind is convincing you to keep going because you've gone too far now to surrender.

There's still too much for you to live for although, suddenly you're struggling to believe it. Hope isn't something you usually thought a lot of, and now when you need it most, there's barely anything left inside of you to evoke it. You regret the foolish decision that has landed you in this difficult predicament, merely promising not to do anything of the sorts again, presuming you're even given the opportunity. Albeit, wishing time machines really did exist, so you can go back, and erase all the poor outcomes of your life preceding this moment because for some reason your soul and memories feel tainted.

Life never did make sense to you, as everyday you're finding yourself trying to understand its meaning only to take a step backwards in the wrong direction. Your stomach ties into knots by the regular isolation, and your thoughts continue to cloud your judgement. You start to think things that are never going to get any better therefore, opting to throw everything you have away. You have too much time on your hands to think, but only using it for negativity rather than optimism. What did you possibly do to deserve this? The world works in mysterious ways, but eventually persuading yourself that its only purpose is to harm nobody else but you. It truly feels like a joke, so you can't help but laugh. After all, why would someone only want to target _you_? You haven't done anything awful enough to be treated as such, but still nothing ever seems to go your way.

It gets tougher every day to go on, but somehow you proceed to prevail. You try to think not only of the bad things you've done, but also the good. Although, plainly noticing how much more distinct the two lists compare to one another with the bad being much longer. You can't help yourself. People always preach about learning from your past mistakes, but the misconceptions never seem to stop. You dig a deeper hole for yourself every time, and eventually does the hole seem to resemble more and more like a grave; however, _it isn't_.

Your nerves are playing tricks, and your eyes are deceiving you. You're a long way away from reaching the golden gates, and that's all that should matter. Despite this truth, however, do you still refuse to listen. You find your life pointless, and continuing to live, futile since you're coming to the [false] realization that there's nothing left worthy for you to live for.

You don't talk to family, your friendships aren't genuine, and your love life is clearly missing someone. You don't understand how you could've gone from eager mornings and mystifying nights to wasted afternoons and dreadful evenings, and all in a matter of just a few months, but it's happened, and you can't change it. At least, so you think.

 _Do miracles exist?_ It honestly depends on one's beliefs, but a marvel will happen for you sooner rather than later as well as a kiss, and maybe even more than one as your _Sleeping Beauty_ misadventure is finally coming to a wits end.

.::.

I can tell I'm alone in my room, and it doesn't feel right. It's hard to explain, but it's like when your parents leave you at home, and you feel as if you can hear noises when actually there's nobody around. It feels longer than usual since someone has come inside to check up on me, and for a while has a certain blonde's voice not filled my ears with her beautiful singing and laughter. I haven't felt her touch that I've skillfully managed to contrast from all the other nurses aiding me, and I really miss it. She easily makes these elongated days tolerable, and without her here does my situation feel that much more problematic.

She's nothing more than a volunteer, so her presence isn't necessary every day, although she still manages to find her way here and back to me every single time. It's obvious how effortless she makes my insides churn, and I desperately want to be able to confess what it is that has all these butterflies floating around in me because of her.

Maya probably thinks she hardly does anything at all, but it's honestly just enough to help keep my faith up. She talks to me about the weather, how the sun shines for six hours until finally an unexpected rainstorm emerges. She informs me about the news, and what's currently happening in the world. I even listen closely as she mentions pop culture, and blushes about her favorite male singer. Maya sometimes lights candles just to keep my senses up, and give my room a more refreshing scent away from all the chemicals. I can feel when she sits down beside me, and gently strokes the front of my hair. She sings the chorus to different songs every time we're together, and laughs to herself after attempting to say a funny joke.

Although, I'll never forget her admitting that she can't wait until I'm finally awake.

I'll do it for her. I'll do it for the both of us.

"You do realize my shift ends in five minutes,"

Someone says as the door to the room quickly breaks open. I decipher it as a female's voice.

"I understand that, but I need this favor from you," Warner says, and the female sighs. "Please watch patient, Joshua Matthews until Evan is available," he requests, and his tone is full of distress.

"Why isn't Evan here himself? Doesn't he know his schedule? He should be here by now."

"Yes, Claire we're highly aware of that, which is why I need you right now until he finishes up his current duty." Warner explains, and Claire rolls her eyes. She stares at the doctor doubtfully.

"Why is he even late in the first place?" she asks, and I can tell Warner is growing wary of this nurse's constant questions and uncooperativeness.

He lightly groans. "Claire just… _please_. This one time, that's all I ask." Warner pleas, and soon there's a short quietude. Claire glances over her shoulder with her arms crossed, and plainly stares at the unconscious patient behind her.

She shrugs her shoulders dismissively. "Tell Evan to _hurry up,_ " she grunts through gritted teeth.

Warner promptly nods his head. "Of course, he'll be here as soon as he's done bathing another patient."

"How is he still doing that?"

"He started late due to a previous issue. Regardless, he'll be in here to evaluate Mr. Matthews, so you can go home. I'd do it myself, but it's late night, and I have other business to tend to." Warner says, and it seems to satisfy Claire just enough. She then walks over to a chair to slouch in, and sits down before crossing her legs.

Elsewhere, Warner's voice gets further and further away as he's nearly out of the room. "I appreciate your help, Claire, and I'm sorry to ask this of you at such a short notice. You _will_ be paid for any extra time, however," he assures, and Claire smirks to herself prior to glancing at Warner with a faux smile.

"You're welcome, Doctor," she replies sweetly before the door briefly closes again.

I'm now stuck with a petty, ungrateful nurse that couldn't care less about being in the same room as me. I'm sure she would much rather be somewhere else, and honestly, I would prefer the same. When Maya is told to stay with me, she goes as far as fluffing my pillow and readjusting my mattress. Claire on the other hand, can barely give me a new blanket to sleep with.

Her dramatic groans then reverberate the entire room as she complains. "Evan needs to get his ass down here already," she says, irately, "I have a kid to get home to." Claire mutters, and subsequently does the room turn quiet again as I can plainly sense her staring at me. I wish I could say something to her, but unfortunately for me, that's impossible.

The legs of her chair then screech along the tile floor as she stands up to walk over to my bedside, and her hands hastily touch my forehead as if checking my temperature. Afterwards, lifting my arm up by the wrist between her thumb and index finger, and repeatedly raising and dropping it back onto my bed. She snorts. "Can you feel that at all?" she says, as though I can answer her, "I swear, people in comas are ridiculous. You apparently feel and hear everything around you, but can't talk or open your eyes."

I want to curse at her so much, and this restriction is frustrating me.

"I wonder if you still have dreams, while in a coma. They say it's just like being asleep, but for a long time, right?" Claire says, giggling. "What would you possibly dream about, though? I mean, you are kind of cute so, you probably have a big ego. Maybe you're dreaming about lying in bed with plenty of beautiful girls, or skinny dipping into a lake with your chiseled abs and defined muscles," she fantasizes.

Nothing she's saying makes any sense to me, and it's hard to take a compliment when it's by someone you dislike. Regardless, even before my accident did I usually have more nightmares than dreams. The affect drugs have on someone's mind is frightening, but still are they too addicting for me to ignore. Often, I wake up in a pool of sweat, and other times it feels harder to wake up when I really want to the most. Needless to say, I remember my nightmares more than my dreams.

" _Hey_ , I'm here," a voice announces, and Claire looks behind her to see Evan standing in the doorway.

She scoffs. "It's about time."

"Quiet. It's not like you were going to offer to clean the patient, while I came here." Evan retorts, and Claire snickers.

I can hear her footsteps as she walks away from my bedside.

She stands directly in front of Evan with her hands on her hips. "Not true. I probably would have if I actually _liked_ you," she taunts, and Evan rolls his eyes before gently shoving her aside.

He looks down at the clipboard in his hands, and stands at the foot of the hospital bed, while Claire silently watches him jot down notes. Evan glares at her from the corner of his eye. "Why are you still here? I thought you were in a such a rush to leave," he says, sarcastically.

"I am, but I was just…" Claire tapers, and stepping back over closer to the hospital bed. "You normally don't check this patient. Why are you now, and why is Warner okay with it?" she interrogates, aware of everyone's usual jobs and stations. Evan then gives Claire the side eye in the midst of his writing and note taking. "Oh, let me guess, is it because your girlfriend couldn't make it. _Again_."

"Shut up, Claire." Evan growls, but still Claire proceeds to knit pick.

She wickedly begins to smirk. "I'm just saying, you can do better. That blonde is stuck up, anyway. She thinks she's better than the rest of us, and I'm glad she left out early today."

"No, I think she's only better than _you_." Evan says, while looking at Claire irritably.

I don't know who it is they're talking about, and only hoping they weren't talking about _my_ blonde.

Claire angrily folds her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're an annoying, paranoid twenty-year-old, who doesn't care about this hospital or its patients. Compared to you, Maya genuinely loves it here, and if it weren't for a personal matter, then she would be here right now. At least she's here for the right reasons…" Evan murmurs, and disdain evident within his voice. It's clear to witness that him and Claire aren't the best of friends, but still do they always find themselves together when they least would like to be.

Claire's mouth then falls ajar, speechless. "That's what this is about? You only like her because she likes it here at this— _dysfunctional_ hospital?"

"She's also not a bitch like someone I know," Evan implies, and the comment quickly managing to distemper Claire.

She scoffs for a further time, and stomps her foot amid Evan's evaluation. "You know what? You both can have each other for all I care."

"We plan to, thanks." Evan says nonchalantly, and Claire harshly slams the door behind her on her way out. Evan then chuckles, shaking his head.

" _Claire_ , I swear. Be happy she's not your regular nurse because I honestly feel bad for the patients that _are_ stuck with her," he says aloud, "Don't worry, though. Maya will be here tomorrow to look after you, and anyway, I'm sure she misses you. I mean, why wouldn't she? Her heart is enormous," Evan whispers to himself, admirably.

Meanwhile, I feel even more stiff than I already am. I want Maya to be the one to lift me out this everlasting nightmare of a fairy tale, but instead, discovering the truth to something that I wish had been false. _She has a boyfriend_ , and it's the guy voluntarily taking care of me in her absence.

Even if Maya _can_ hear me, she definitely won't kiss me now.

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._


	3. Chapter 3

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Three || _Green with Envy._

You're frustrated. You constantly aim for perfection, but still are you never satisfied with the results. Every compliment to come your way is nothing but appraisal and although the words seem genuine, do you still continue to believe that more can be done. You're your biggest critic, and sometimes that's the issue. You proceed to second guess yourself rather than following your first instinct, and it does nothing but get in the way. Each day of your life is a new chapter and a seemingly new beginning, and you opt to share every single one of your experiences through music. The lyrics appear to flow out of you effortlessly, but despite being amazing do you still toss out every song you're convinced is "average".

Stardom. Your name in lights. You fantasize everyday about opening your voice to the world with nothing by your side except your guitar and your supporters. Your vocals are beloved, and you're at your happiest whenever the words truly flow out of your heart. Tears occasionally slide down your cheeks the minute you sense your song has touched someone, and you're impatient to do it all over again. Nevertheless, you have so many other responsibilities on your plate. From school to the hospital, your eye never appears to twitch, and a hair is never out of place. Optimism is your companion, and it's the most admirable trait about you. You're adored _because_ of how sweet and approachable you are, and believe it or not, new admiration is starting to grow from it in the process.

Golden blonde hair and captivating azure eyes—you're like a modern-day Cinderella. You don't go searching for the problems, but still they always find you. It starts to become troublesome, but your attitude doesn't falter as it usually would for most. Albeit, you simply remember the good that's sure to come from it. Things happen for a reason, and they wouldn't happen if they weren't important.

.::.

I need absolute peace and quiet, and to avoid any other distractions that may be going on around me. I push myself every day, and it usually leaves me exhausted. Regardless, I try not to show it. I believe in never allowing someone to see you at your weakest because then they start to underestimate you.

Hard work and dedication motivates me from one day to the next, and I usually find myself alone half of the time _because_ I'm so passionate with what I do. Respect has to be earned, and I want it the old fashion way. People usually mistreat or take me for granted considering I seem soft and vulnerable. I leave myself wide open for contempt, and I have nobody else to blame. Needless to say, my life hasn't exactly been the same since a year or so ago, and I'm still undecided on whether or not I enjoy the sudden turn of events. I used to be an only child, but that aspect of my previous life has _gladly_ been overpowered; note my sarcasm.

It's not necessarily the worst chain of events, although, it's all of what I expected and _then_ some. Younger siblings are usually annoying because they follow and try to copy everything you do, but apparently only for the reason that they look up to you. Then there's the older sibling. They treat their younger half as though they're entirely beneath them, and feel as if they can do no wrong because they're older and "more experienced". However, I don't have either. No, I was "fortunately" blessed with the advantage of being with someone the exact same age as me, and if they weren't so obnoxious, then _maybe_ I would start to consider the bright side to this puzzling situation. Then again, I couldn't care less. Besides, I have more important things to worry ab—

" _Ouch_!" I shout, and cradling the back of my head. I then look up at my doorway to see _him_ standing in it.

"I should've done that sooner," he says, casually standing against the doorframe of my bedroom with his hands in his pockets.

The smirk plastered across his lips is wicked and sly, and I can slowly feel my anger starting to rise as I'm unable to finish my thoughts due to his antics, and the incident doing nothing else but reminding me of why I despise these circumstances to begin with.

I then stare beside me at the now still football laying along my bed that he carelessly used to hit me in the head, and it's taking every fiber of my being not to throw it back in his face. I glare at Grayson in distaste as he continues to smile—a smile that I hate more than anything, by the way, and watches as he travels further inside of my room, purposely leaving the door open behind him. I start to cringe just from his presence, but he doesn't seem to notice, or at least pretends not to.

Grayson bounces down onto the mattress, causing both our bodies to shake, and I narrow my eyes at him irritably. He folds his arms behind his head as he lays down beside me, and locks of his bangs cover halfway over his green eyes. His hair is brown with a wispy look and texture to it; he can easily run his fingers across his scalp. Meanwhile, his stare is full of mystery and curiosity.

I notice Grayson's eyes move from my face down to the guitar sitting across my lap, and I awkwardly shift and readjust myself from the position of sitting crisscross.

I swallow. I had left the hospital early to rehearse my music, and the very last thing I need is an interruption by someone clearly not worth the time.

Grayson and I have a stare down. "Can I _help_ you?" I ask, rhetorically.

Grayson shrugs. "Depends. Is the almighty Maya Hart genuinely offering her services for once?"

"My "services" are available to all I deem worthy," I say, opting to partake in his petty taunting.

He snorts. "Well, lucky for you I don't want anything… _this time_ ," he says, "I just thought I'd stop by."

"I don't have time for this, Grayson." I argue, and he laughs.

In contrast to me, Grayson does nothing with his days except pretend to care, and get on my last nerve. He's the worst adoptive brother I could ever think to ask for, but I guess we can't all be perfect. In all fairness, however, Grayson's tolerable.

He then starts to sit up on the bed, and moves until we're sitting directly next to one another—leaning back on his hand as his arm extends behind me. He closely stares at my guitar as he speaks. "Okay honestly, I came in here because I got curious," he soundly admits, and I look at him questionably. "You've been playing the same chord repeatedly for the pass fifteen minutes now, and it's kind of getting annoying."

I roll my eyes, but can't help but feed into his attention seeking and mellow dramatics. I groan. "What's your point?"

"Are you planning to present this or something? I mean, I'm no expert when it comes to this stuff, but I'm pretty sure your song needs to have _words_ , too." Grayson taunts, and although I want to argue with him, I can't.

Instead, I groan some more and scratch my scalp out of frustration. "Why do you even care?" I reply, spitefully. "I already know the song needs work. I don't need you telling me this."

"I think you do," he says, sarcastically, "Why are you even writing a song? What is it for?" Grayson asks, genuinely seeming curious. I eventually avert my eyes away.

I start to contemplate the reasons of why I do any of this, and immediately think of the possibilities. I want to make a life for myself as a self-writing and proclaimed recording artist, and finally with an upcoming event to showcase just what I can do. Ergo, I need to be prepared for it.

I can later sense Grayson staring at me. "Okay, better question—who are you hoping to impress by doing this?" he inquires, and momentarily, I'm silent.

 _The truth?_ Well, everyone. I want to impress everyone that hears my music, especially my mom, Shawn, and Evan. Although, there's someone else on my mind, too. While I'm desperately attempting to make my dreams come true, there's people in the hospital that can barely do things for themselves. Half have already lost their hope, and the others have unfortunately met their fate. I sing not only for myself, but to open people's hearts. I would love to put on the concert of a lifetime for the patients at the hospital I volunteer at, and bring smiles to their dull and solemn faces, especially to the _someone_ in particular.

I smile to myself just at the thought of him, and Grayson cocks an eyebrow. "Why are you blushing?" he asks, and my eyes widen.

I'm bashful and hesitant, but still I can't help continuing to smile. "I didn't realize I was…"

"Well, you are, and it's creepy." Grayson replies, and I shove him. He laughs. "Whatever. I don't know what this is about, but I really do hope you don't crash and burn."

"Really?" I say, skeptically.

Grayson shrugs, snickering. "Yeah, but I mean, I'll still be ready to capture your epic fail on video, and post it the minute you screw up, so all can laugh along with me at how horrible you look," he says, laughing loud and obnoxiously. I frown.

I extend my arm, pointing to the door. " _Get out_." I demand, fed up with the jokes. This meant way too much to me.

Grayson raises his arms in surrender. "I'm just saying," he defends.

I clench my jaw, and then look behind me. I reach for my pillow prior to bashing it as hard as I can against Grayson's head. He crouches his back and chuckles, running for the door. He then peeks around the doorframe, half of his body out of the room, and smiles at me. "I love you, too," he says, casually with a smirk.

My cheeks then instantly begin to flush, and I don't respond. Grayson is soon out of sight, and I'm suddenly feeling stiff. It's not necessarily in his nature to express his feelings, at least not to me, and I truthfully thought I wouldn't live to see the day, despite having lived with Grayson for over a year now. I guess as siblings, he'd inevitably have a change of heart sooner or later, although I'm still not sure I can say the same just yet.

Instead, smile as I continue to think of Josh. _Joshua Matthews_. He may be unconscious, but still can I sense that he loves it anytime I sing to him. He's going to be the first one to hear this currently unfinished song, and I can only hope it has a tremendous impact on him.

If he's finally lifted out of his coma because of something I did, I may scream until my lungs burst.

Don't tell the patient in room C417, _but Josh is my favorite_.

.::.

Her palms are folded as she nervously fiddles with her thumbs. She slowly rocks back and forth in the chair of the hospital room, while time seems to be tormenting her as the ticking is imaginably louder with each passing second.

Jasmine exhales a breath, plainly sensing as her heart rapidly palpitates against her chest. It's felt like hours, despite only being a few minutes, and she can barely think straight. Whenever they're apart, she can never control the sudden heartache issuing inside of her; desperate to know the underlying truth.

His smiling face, teeth on full display when attempting to be canny, and the hardy sound of his contagious laughter—her face is rosy just from the mere thought of him. Although, the feeling doesn't last long.

Josh's mindlessly rash decisions doing nothing but push her away. Jasmine frowns. She remembers their noteworthy moments together, leading all the way to the separation. Smoke in her eyes every minute, and delirious attitudes more often than not. Albeit, Josh's intoxicating states shifting from a few times a month to nearly every night, and soon with an inability to even hold a proper conversation with him. Jasmine bows her head in frustration, her dark brunette hair falling over her face.

Josh never listens to reason, leading to his actions to ultimately backfire in his face. She would care if something were to happen him, and hopelessly praying the chance to confess to him face to face will come soon enough. Needless to say, blaming herself for his predicament. If only she hadn't left him alone. Jasmine can feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but blinking several times to avoid allowing even a single one to drop. The brief sound of the door opening then quickly distracts her, and she looks over her shoulder to witness the commotion.

He stares at Jasmine sympathetically. "You okay?" he asks, delicately.

She sighs. "I won't know the answer until I see him."

"I heard they're bringing him back in now. Don't sweat it," Andrew says, moving to sit in the chair beside her. He offers her a candy bar. "The vending machine didn't have Reese's. Is a Snickers, okay?"

Jasmine rolls her eyes. She only sent Andrew to the snack machine for an opportunity to be alone and think. Josh had still been coma induced, fearing this would continue for several more weeks, and frankly, she wouldn't be able to handle that.

She narrows her eyes at the candy in Andrew's hand. Jasmine then groans before snatching it. "How can we even think about eating when Josh is like this?" Jasmine exclaims, rising up from her chair. However, Andrew doesn't respond. Instead, stares at her in astonishment. "I mean, am I the only one, who even cares?"

"Of course, not—"

Jasmine waves her arms haphazardly, irritated as she proceeds to shout. "His parents didn't even care when I told them what happened! What the hell kind of adults act like that? I mean, really!"

"I guess you have to think about it from their point of view," Andrew says, and Jasmine quirks a brow. "It's not like they didn't warn him of the consequences."

"That's still no reason to abandon your son!"

"But didn't he abandon them first?" Andrew challenges, silencing Jasmine entirely.

She parts her lips to protest, but promptly closes her mouth back indefinitely. Josh had neglected his parent's forewarning from the very get go, opting to waste his days at crack homes and parties instead of genuinely making something of himself. Now he's practically lying dead, and Jasmine can't stand to watch it continue any longer.

They've been friends for years. Why would she?

Andrew then slowly stands up from his chair, filling the awkward quietude. "Just trust that he's going to be all right."

Jasmine shakes her absentmindedly, doubtful. "Guess I don't have much of a choice..." she murmurs with a shrug, and Andrew softly cradles her shoulder in support.

A presence then emerges in the doorway, and the two simultaneously turn their heads to see three figures accompanying the space. One of whom Jasmine recognizes all too well. "I see you're still here,"

Jasmine's expression tenses. "I wouldn't dare go anywhere else." _Not before knowing about Josh_.

"Of course. Well, you'll be happy to know that we're finally starting to get an arousal out of him as the procedures are working tremendously well. It shouldn't be long now."

Jasmine smiles, exhaling in relief, and Andrew looks at her affectionately. "Good, good. That's awesome."

"Yes. We're going to bring him back into the room now if you please," Dr. Warner states, indicating for the two to step aside.

Josh then soon comes into view, unconscious on his bed as a nurse wheels him back inside. Jasmine closely watches his face, but still listening as one of the nurses begin to talk. "It's safe to say his coma has finally passed, but he's still a little out of it. We're simply going to allow him some sleep now until he awakes naturally." The nurse explains, and Jasmine turns her gaze to focus on them.

Blonde hair pulled up neatly into a bun, and blue eyes shimmering brilliantly as both their stares meet. Jasmine smiles faintly.

"Precisely. You have no more reason now to stress. Joshua Matthews is going to be fine." Warner says.

"That's great." Andrew retorts, but soon looking as the second nurse in the doorway speaks.

"Yeah, although, we're still concerned about his health," he mentions. Jasmine and Andrew look at him, puzzled. "Hi, I'm Evan, a volunteering nurse here at the hospital. I've been occasionally keeping track of Joshua Matthews' records, and have come to the discovery of his apparently growing drug addiction." Jasmine and Andrew momentarily exchange glances.

"There's still time to do something before anything gets worse, although we need to be sure Josh's addiction will subside. Otherwise, the treatment will seem useless." The blonde asserts, and Jasmine subsequently looks at the name tag along her shirt.

 _Maya_.

"We're going to run some experiments when the time is right. In the meantime, half of our work is done. If you'd like, you have a few more minutes before visiting hours are over. With that being said, we'll give you all some time alone with him." Warner announces, and both Jasmine and Andrew start to grin.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Yeah, thanks."

"My pleasure," he replies prior to refocusing his attention. "Alright team, on to the next patient. Let's go." Warner commands, leaving the doorway as only the three volunteering nurses remain.

The one to bring Josh back into room folds her arms over her chest, en route for the door, and purposely brushes pass Evan. He shakes his head dismissively. "Claire…" He grunts, and then looks over as he smiles at Maya. "Ready?"

She stares at him with her mouth ample. "Uh," she stammers, and her eyes briefly gaze at Josh. Jasmine looks at her suspiciously. "Yeah…"

Maya reluctantly follows Evan out of the room, peering over her shoulder one final time until Josh is completely out of her view. Jasmine stares at the now empty doorway, suspicious of the nurse's seemingly over induced interest in this one patient in particular. Nonetheless, thoughts soon disrupted by the sound of Andrew's voice. She turns her head to look at him. "See? I told you not to sweat," he says, chuckling.

Jasmine sighs. "Yeah, well, I'll be even more impressed when he's actually awake and talking."

Andrew chuckles. "Ditto," he says, "so, you ready to go? If all he needs is sleep, then we better not disturb him."

Jasmine nods hesitantly. "You're right. Uh, just give me a minute. I'll meet you in the lobby," she responds, and Andrew nods.

"You got it," he says just before exiting the room.

Once alone, Jasmine looks at Josh worriedly, and her countenance stern, while stepping closer to his bedside. Momentarily, her stare is calm, and gazing at the peaceable expression of Josh's face. She then slowly reaches her hand to his cheek, caressing it gingerly. Jasmine lightly smiles, her heart warm at the news that he's going to be okay. Regardless, clueless as to what this will all mean. Josh clearly has a problem, despite wishing otherwise, and unfortunately you can't help anyone, who isn't willing to help themselves.

Afterwards, her thoughts start to drift. It had been strange the way the blonde nurse seemed to look at him as if she were a close friend or something, and Jasmine couldn't ignore the jealousy overriding her insides.

She couldn't wait until she heard Josh's voice again. At least then she could finally get some answers.

It was annoying not being able to read his mind, and Jasmine didn't trust the nurse with the blue eyes even for a second.

Nevertheless, briefly glancing over her shoulder at the door to be certain of privacy prior to diverting her eyes back to Josh. She reluctantly holds her hair in place as it sits all to one side of her neck, and gradually leaning herself down to Josh's lips. She softly begins to close her eyes.

 _It's either now or never_.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Four || _Unwanted Kiss_.

Her eyes solemnly begin to shimmer as they divert down to the floor underneath her feet. The inside of her chest is racing as her heart quickly palpitates, and is openly starting to ache. _Intentional_? No. She hadn't been meant to see, but still did it not change the circumstances. She tears her gaze away from the scene, opting to go unnoticeable, and leans her back against the wall. Her mind is foggy with unanswered questions, although she doesn't understand why. Albeit, he'd merely been another patient just like all the rest, but still did the pain hurt just as bad. She'd seen him the minute his eyes lifted, irises brown and candidly lost of any more hope. She parted her lips when their glances soon met, and feeling as though she were trapped within a trance. It had been too difficult to look away, but the urge to touch him not worth ignoring.

Slowly, her hand trembles, anxious as it reaches out to clutch his. She bites her lip in attempts to calm herself, but the closer she gets, the more nervous she becomes. The room seems to be spinning, and the air so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Their hands now only centimeters apart, meanwhile, all the oxygen has left her lungs. She's holding her breath, anticipating the unexpected until finally the inevitable arises.

His hands are warm, and his palms as soft as a plush toy. She waits for a reaction, but instead receives nothing. His eyes are steady, looking nowhere else but at her, and his body stiff as he continues to lay along his bed. She smiles. She longs desperately for him to speak, but understands the inadequacy. He'd just woken up after many weeks of unconsciousness. Ergo, he couldn't move yet even if he wanted to.

Elsewhere, she can feel her cheeks starting to burn. Her skin is red by the sight of him awake, and she can sense her eyes beginning to well up with tears. She quickly blinks, washing them away as they trickle along her face, and contemplates something to say. She's thought of this moment countless times again, although it doesn't compare to the actual thing.

Maya puffs her cheeks as she sighs; it truly puzzling how easily this guy can make her insides churn. "Wow," she says, breathlessly, and her smirk growing more and more with each passing second. " _it's nice to meet you_." Maya proclaims, and she can sense him wanting to talk.

She subsequently aligns her hand with his cheek, gently caressing it. She's only been a volunteer for a few months, and no other patient captured her attention quite like he did. She hadn't seen him awake until now, and truthfully itching to keep him in her thoughts.

Her smile soon falters, and she stares at him somberly prior to lightly squeezing his hand. "Remind me later that we need to talk," Maya says, holding his gaze. "I want to know everything. I'll listen, I promise," she assures, her voice subtle and sincere as she anticipates a response, although it doesn't happen.

Maya's eyes briefly drop disappointingly before ultimately shaking away the stress. She quickly feigns a smirk, while gradually releasing his hand. "I'll go get the doctor. Be right back…" She mumbles, backing away, and out of the room.

She didn't know what it was about him, but still could she feel a force drastically luring the two of them together. Accordingly, the intimate moment between him and someone else effectively causing a smoldering fit of rage to flare up inside of her. Nevertheless, lifting her chin up high before walking away from the doorway. Her emotions were unexplainable and her thoughts severely boggled, but still did she have to come to the underlying conclusion:

 _Josh was no longer her top priority_.

Maya silently stumbles through the hospital corridors, vividly distressed, despite attempting to show otherwise, and treks until she's standing in front of the break room. She loosely shakes out her limbs before going inside to cancel out any visible stress, and avoid any interrogation from Evan. She slowly reaches her hand toward the doorknob, and reluctantly steps into the room. Maya's immediately under the bright lights, and in the limelight of the glistening sun beaming through the window from across the room. Her eyes eventually connect with Evan's, however, only temporarily as she redirects her attention to Claire's piercing glare. She scowls in return, lifting one foot in front of the other to move closer to the pair as they sit at a table together.

Claire wickedly smirks as she watches Maya look for a place to sit, seeing as there are no more available chairs left next to her "precious boyfriend", and looks at the blonde arrogantly. Claire making sure to take the only empty seat beside Evan.

Maya's countenance is clearly uneasy as she awkwardly ambles up to the table, but Evan hastily stands up to meet her halfway. He softly wraps an arm around her waist, and Claire stares at the couple spitefully. If looks could kill, her eyes practically shooting daggers, and turns away as the two briefly kiss one another.

Evan looks at Maya curiously, still holding her in his arms. "Everything okay?"

Maya quietly stares at him until finally registering his question. She nods. "Uh, yeah..." She says, unconvincingly.

"How's Joshua Matthews?" Evan asks, and Maya stiffens, remembering her offer to return a clipboard back to the filing pouch along his room door.

She purses her lips together. "I… I didn't go inside." She says, wishing desperately to erase the image still floating around her brain.

Evan cocks an eyebrow questioningly. " _Oh_? Well, I guess that makes sense. It's not like you needed to," he says, noticing Maya's refusal to look at him, and is unable to bypass his suspicions.

Evan then glances pass his shoulder, and plainly catching the look of envy masquerading Claire's face. The way her eyes berated Maya completely befuddling since she hadn't done anything worth being despised over. Claire disliked Maya for various unknown reasons Evan would never come to understand, although merely aiming to resolve the pent up tension once and for all. It had been no secret of Claire typically getting on Evan's last nerve, but still did he feel an attachment toward her.

They've been allies since middle school when they first met in seventh grade, and even as high school seniors did everything remain the same. Evan frankly couldn't forget their many times together, despite his constant efforts, and believing Claire to share the same issue. Needless to say, their first encounter together truly unlikely as it still haunts him to this day, and foolishly making the mistake to lock it away as if it wasn't worth mentioning ever again. However, Evan couldn't deny the suspense any longer. Actions had to be made.

He pulls Maya in close to him, and leans his lips down to whisper in her ear. " _Meet me outside in our usual spot. I'll catch up with you,_ " he demands, and Maya looks up at him skeptically.

She parts her lips to protest, but is immediately silenced by a forcible kiss; her lips imperfectly interlaced with Evan's for several seconds until he finally backs away, urging her to leave.

Maya flimsily stands, looking at him in a daze. Evan gestures with his hand, shooing her away. " _Go on_. I'll meet you there," he reassures her, and Maya sharply cuts her gaze to Claire, expecting her expression to relay it all, although Claire appearing to be just as bewildered by Evan's intentions.

She closely stares at the back of his head from her position in the chair still at the table, while Evan continues to look at Maya, wishing for her presence to disappear. Claire soon senses the blonde's lingering gaze, and looks at her before smiling triumphantly. She didn't know why Evan suddenly wanted her gone, but enjoying the moment, nonetheless.

Maya then glowers, clenching her fists, and turns on her heel to exit the room without a single glance back in Evan's direction. She can hear his voice as he calls out to her, but doesn't respond as she couldn't care less. He suddenly didn't want her around, and Maya didn't enjoy the look of satisfaction on Claire's face.

No way was she going to their spot now.

.::.

I'm slowly opening my eyes, and the first thing I see is a shadow hovering above me. I can't feel a thing, and my entire body feels weak. I'm looking straight up at the figure casting over me, and even though I'm not physically showing it on the outside, I'm freaking out on the inside. An unexpected kiss to my lips, and not quite from the one I had been hoping for. Should I be _thrilled_ or _disappointed_?

Tears quickly begin to well up in her eyes, and she covers her mouth to stop a single noise from coming out. I can't tell what she's thinking as the glimpse of me apparently awake has her emotions in a frenzy. Her cheeks are turning rosy, and her cries more coherent. She removes her hand to speak, and her voice instantly croaks.

If there's any consolation, I'm happy to see her too.

" _Josh_ …" She quietly moans, seeming both afraid and ecstatic at the same time. "Can you hear me alright? I… I didn't mean to—I mean, I was supposed to let you rest," she stammers, and it pains me that I'm not able to say anything back.

Jasmine rapidly wipes her tears away, kneels down to the floor near my bedside, and reluctantly clamps her hand with mine. For a moment, she doesn't talk at all as she simply looks at our conjoined palms. She then lightly cups the back of my hand with her other one, and whispers without looking at me. "I should be angry with you for worrying me so much… _but I'm not_." Jasmine admits, and I can slowly feel the guilt controlling my insides.

Her pleads were vigorous at the time, but I simply ignored them. I didn't want to listen, and I have nobody else but myself to blame.

I remember the night as if it were yesterday, and I can feel myself wanting to wince just from the mere thought of it. The crack home had been dingy, grimy of foul smells, and up to capacity in a cloud of smoke in every part of the house imaginable. Strangers would sit around completely belligerent, high and disoriented as they pass around a blunt or drinking one beer can after the next. Although, I usually kept to myself.

I'd sit in a corner in means of separation, rolling weed into a cigar, and quietly luxuriating in the peaceful solitude that surrounded me. Albeit, it had been pointless trying to befriend the other junkies as the only thing any of us even had in common was our love for drugs. I didn't even want to admit that I had been one of them, but it was no use attempting to deny it.

Regardless, I still had been smart enough to never drive, while under the influence as I'm normally too intoxicated to even stand on my own two feet, but all of that changed the minute an altercation began. My mind had been foggy on how the fight even started, but clearly remembering a shrill yelling blaring through my ears, and spit flying onto my face until finally I was shoved down to the floor. I couldn't comprehend the situation, but opting to defend myself, nevertheless.

The next thing I know there's punches being thrown, screams and chants resonating from the background, and blood dripping onto the dusty hardwood floors. _My blood_. I'm suddenly kneed in my stomach, and bending forward as I hold my gut.

Eventually, I'm down to my knees, and my vision a complete blur as I watch the guy walk away. I wasn't going to stay in that house for another minute as the next thing I know, I'm cruising along the streets, wheels swiveling along the pavement until suddenly my car is in a tailspin.

 _I should've been dead_ , and I don't understand why I'm not.

Jasmine looks at me once again, her cheeks a bright tint of red as she blushes. "You're going to be okay, Josh but only if you choose to do something about your addiction," she warns me, and my emotions are entirely blank. _Better said than done_. "I hate seeing you waste your days like this, getting high off of pot, and sleeping with strangers. It's not good for you, or for the people around you." Jasmine says, although she isn't telling me anything I don't already know.

I hadn't planned to become this person, but now that I am, there's no going back. I need to be with someone, who's going to accept this part of me rather than try to change it.

Jasmine just doesn't understand. I'm not sure anyone ever will.

"It's obvious we'll have to talk more about this, and I'll be looking forward to it," she mutters, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, and it soon becomes clear to me that we were not on the same page.

My problem is the last thing I want to be discussing with anybody. If only I could rewind back time, and listen to _her_ voice as she sings one of her favorite songs to me. I thought what I wanted was to be kissed, but apparently, all I needed was to feel hope again.

 _She gave me that_.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Five || _Shadows_.

Evan's eyes closely follow Maya's movements until she's completely out of sight. He then furrows his eyebrows, puzzled by the sudden look of agitation seething up from within her, and promptly glances over his shoulder in Claire's direction. She's still gazing at the doorway, happily bidding the blonde a farewell as she wiggles her fingers, and feeling a sense of accomplishment merely by the way she left in a fit of anger. Nevertheless, diverts her stare to Evan the minute she feels his lingering eyes. Momentarily, her smile falters, and seeing as Evan retakes his seat back at the table.

Before Maya's overly anticipated arrival into the break room, nothing out of the ordinary had been going on between Claire and Evan much to her chagrin. Moreover, she would've much preferred for the mundane blonde to walk into to a heated, passionate make-out session or anything of the sorts, but even Claire had to admit that the likeliness of her and Evan ever becoming romantically intertwined were slim to none.

She sighs from the thought. Whatever Evan apparently sees in Maya is far beyond what she could possibly imagine, and not knowing the truth practically causing veins to bulge out from her forehead. Albeit, Claire didn't understand how she hadn't been the victor in winning over Evan's heart as she's known him immensely longer than Maya ever has. Countless times and times again does she just want to force the question out of her—to make him feel trapped into answering her—but also deciding against it as it may only make the situation worse.

As they continue to sit across from each other, more and more people are beginning to leave, and Claire is starting to become restless. She leans back in her chair, while folding her arms across her chest, and stares at Evan questionably. After all, _he_ was the one that wanted to talk. "So… is there a reason why you hightailed your girlfriend out of here faster than a runaway freight train?" Claire says, broadly gagging at the mention of the word 'girlfriend'.

Evan loosely rolls his eyes. "Why do you have to do that," he argues, and Claire slowly raises an eyebrow. " _Yes_ , Maya is my girlfriend, and she has been for a few months now."

"I didn't ask for a reminder." Claire snarls, and quickly averting her gaze away; preventing herself from looking at Evan at longer.

Meanwhile, Evan gradually begins to lean himself forward onto the table. He glares at Claire as if staring long enough will allow him a glimpse into the inside of her soul, giving him all the answers. He wants to better understand her, but can't help how difficult she makes it. "What did you do?" he quickly accuses, and Claire snaps her neck back in his general direction.

Her face easily distorts into a look of confusion. " _Excuse me_?"

"I know that I asked Maya to leave, but I get the feeling you're the reason she walked out like she was mad about something." Evan elaborates, and Claire loudly chortles into a fit of laughter.

She couldn't believe how far-fetched the accusation was, and continuing to bellow, while pretending to wipe a few stray tears away from her eyes. "You're insane,"

"If I'm insane because I care about my girlfriend, then fine—"

" _No, jackass_!" Claire fiercely yells, and standing up from the table as she harshly slams her hands down. "Please do not sit here and tell me that you really think that pseudo…blonde-headed mistress loves you the way you love her because I can promise you right now that she doesn't!" Claire shouts although, Evan appears completely unfazed.

Claire never liked Maya since the moment he first introduced her as his girlfriend, and even though he knows why, he proceeds to go on as clueless. Evan hopes someday for Claire to finally tell him the truth but the more back and forth that continues between them, the less convinced he becomes.

Claire scoffs. "I really don't understand you two," she proclaims, and starts to aimlessly pace from her side of the table. "I mean, no matter what day it is, you two always walk into this rinky-dink hospital with a smile on your face, and it's disgusting."

She throws her arms up in dissatisfaction, and shakes her head wearily. Claire will be the first to admit that she absolutely hates the hospital and working in it. Ever since she was young, she had a clear distaste for them, although not for the foreseeable such as a family death or sickly condition. No, she loathes it simply because of her mother.

Top doctor for the number one hospital in the state, Claire's mother is probably one of the most talked about personnel in the entire world of medicine. Regardless, Claire honestly couldn't care less about her mother's success. She doesn't care to hear the endless stories of the patients she's encountered, saved, or cured. She despises how little she ever gets to be with her mother, or how whenever she is that they talk of nothing except the hospital.

Claire had been thrown into a job at the hospital like a fish being tossed into a pool of deadly sharks. She may not have asked for it, but there was no turning back.

Eventually, Evan stands from the table as well. He carefully walks closer to Claire, grabbing her around the wrist, and immediately stopping her incessant sauntering. She looks down at his hand prior to gazing up into his eyes. "Is this really about Maya…" He implies, and Claire's eyes briefly enlarge by the straightforward inquiry.

She thought they would never speak of it again.

Evan awkwardly swallows. "I know that you still feel guilty…about us…but you need to stop this."

"I—I don't know what you're talking about," Claire lies as her voice slightly cracks.

Evan gently removes his grip on her, and remains still as they stand directly across from one another. Only inches separate the two of them, and he clearly sees Claire hopelessly trying to blink away any, and all tears stubbornly wanting to fall down her cheeks.

Suddenly she shoves him, taking him aback. Evan knits his eyebrows together, his mouth ajar as he glances at her speechlessly. "Screw you and this hospital," Claire growls, venom laced within her tone. "what happened between you and I is nothing to forget or take lightly, so stop trying to force us to."

"Claire—"

" _Shut up_ ," Claire intervenes, and jabs a finger repeatedly into Evan's chest. "You and Maya are just one of the reasons why I hate working here, but that's all going to change starting now," she declares, and Evan doesn't know what else to say.

Claire then bumps her way pass him, walking toward the exit, and leaving Evan behind as he's now the only one left in the break room.

He angrily groans before kicking a leg of the table. Evan then roughly entangles a hand through his hair as he over contemplates. He knows Maya will have questions concerning him and Claire, although he isn't quite prepared to give any answers.

.::.

Today is the day, and I feel as if I can barely breath. It's nearly my turn to go up on stage, and perform the song I've been perfecting for the past few weeks now, and the last thing I want to do is crash and burn like Grayson suggested I might.

I'm standing backstage of the venue that's showcasing hidden, undiscovered talent, and I'm up next after a pair of hip-hop dancers. I first heard about the agency during a commercial amid one of my evening television shows, and somehow allowed Evan to convince me into signing up. I've been singing for as long as I can remember, but never sung outside of the people I'm closest to. Now here I am, about to sing my heart out to an audience of at least three to five hundred people. It's funny how I've only recently just found out about this company, yet it's seemingly just as popular as _America's Got Talent_ or something, which is practically what this is, minus the live television.

I nervously tune my guitar for the umpteenth time, while relaying my song over and over in my head. I'm the type of song-writer, who never truly believes their lyrics are ever one hundred percent perfect. I've written and rewritten this song so many times to the point of having several different variations of it. However, finally settling on just one, and I only hope it's enough to leave a long-lasting impression on not only the audience, but also the man behind the scenes.

"Hey," I hear as an unfamiliar voice speaks to me, and I instantly look up into a pair of strong-willed blue eyes. His expression is stern as he stares at me, and the more that I gaze, the more I notice that him and I are probably about the same age. "you're next to go on in two minutes. I hope you're ready. I'm Farkle, by the way. _Farkle Minkus_."

"Maya…" I taper skittishly as I reach my arm out to shake his hand.

A temporary grin soon makes its way onto his lips, but it's gone within a matter of seconds. "I'm judging by the guitar that you're going to sing."

"Uh, yeah. Although, I guess you get plenty of those, right? _Singers_ , I mean." I say, and I swear my nerves are getting the better of me the sooner it gets to my turn.

Farkle shrugs. "You wouldn't be wrong," he assures me, and I feel my cheeks growing hot. "My father is a lot of things, and always finds new ways to make money. Although, recently realized how much having money can ultimately help other people as well. He founded this company I'm assuming as a means of allowing people to "follow their dreams" by letting them showcase just what they can do, and then doing whatever is the next step in getting them where they need to be. If he feels you're great and that you have potential, then he'll assist you in whatever it is you want to accomplish with your singing."

That's the only thing I want. All I've ever dreamt of was opening people's hearts with my singing like those at the hospital, and I refuse to let this opportunity pass me by. I would never forgive myself, otherwise.

I smile wide, and before I know it, my arms are around Farkle as I hug him tightly. I can tell he's surprised as he's reluctant on whether to hug me back or not. "Expect a standing ovation," I whisper to him, and I hear him start to chuckle.

Farkle lightly pats me on the back. "Hey, if my dad gets blown away by your voice, then I promise to clap loud enough for everyone."

I step back to look at the expression on Farkle's face, and he's serious. My cheeks then start to flush as I hear myself being presented as the next act to go on.

I mouth a quick _thank you_ to Farkle as he nods, while positioning his hands into his pockets. I exhale one last deep breath, and put on my game face as I confidently strut out onto the stage. Bright lights immediately shine into my eyes causing me to squint, and I walk over to the mic positioned at center stage.

The large crowd in front of me is much more intimidating than I previously imagined it to be, but still do I spot my mom, Shawn, Evan, and Grayson nearly in the front row right where I can see them. My mom looks as if she's already crying considering I haven't even started yet, while Shawn is smiling at me with the utmost certainty that I've ever seen.

Evan is smiling as well, and even from the stage can I see the love in his eyes. Meanwhile, Grayson has a camera in his hands ready to film my performance, although not because he thinks I'll fail, but because I asked him to.

I want the patients at the hospital to hear me singing since they were the sole inspiration for this song, and whether I fall or prevail, if I can manage to bring a smile to even just one of their faces, then all of this will have been worth it.

My eyes eventually adjust to the intense lights, and I soon grab ahold of the microphone to begin introducing my song. A round of applause arises the minute I finish talking, and I notice a wink from Evan the second I begin strumming. I'll admit, he frustrated me yesterday in the break room with Claire when he suspiciously asked me to leave so the two of them could be alone, and expectantly came to my house later that night when realizing I didn't meet up in our place like he wanted. I guess I was angrier with Claire than him, although it still bothers me that they apparently hate being around each other, yet they can't _help_ but near each other.

I get more than halfway through my song, and while I can tell the crowd is drowning into my lyrics, the only thing I can think of right now is Joshua Matthews.

Anytime I don't get to see him, I feel like a piece of my heart is breaking off, and being left behind in the distance. He's someone I feel as if I've known my entire life without ever realizing it, and that there's so much more to him than a measly drug addict, who's unfortunately been coma induced.

He responds every time I sing to him…for him…about him, and the image of finally seeing him awake habits my thoughts and dreams whenever possible. I'm doing this for a lot of reasons, but he may be back at the top of my list.

 _And I can't wait until he sees this_.

* * *

Hi, everyone! Forgive me as this chapter is _entirely_ overdue, but for any of you possibly still following the story, I hope this chapter was a pleasant read and well worth the wait. I'm going to try my hardest to update regularly again, which as along as I receive reviews, notifying me that people are still interested in the story, then I don't see why not.

 **Recap:**

1\. The chapter starts off as a continuation of Maya leaving the break room after Evan's encouragement for her to go, allowing him and Claire another opportunity to talk alone. It's hinted that something has happened between Claire and Evan that they mutually agreed never to speak of again. _**Any guesses as to what?**_

2\. Fast-forward to the next day, Maya has forgiven Evan, and is now preparing to go on stage, and sing an original song she's written that was mentioned back in Chapter Three.

3\. Farkle is introduced to the story as a minor character.

Once again, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter as I'm already thinking of ideas for Chapter Six. Thanks to all that have read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Six || _Run with Her_.

The lights above my head are luminescent and blinding as I gaze up at the ceiling. I'm stuck lying on my back, considering I don't have the strength to flex any of my limbs. I feel, irritable, wary, and helpless, and I can't control the thousands of negative thoughts spiraling through my head. I'm struggling to even remember how long it's been since the accident, and my brain feels fuzzy as I can't seem to recall certain things. I doubt I have amnesia, although it's taking me longer than normal to recite the answer to things I would usually know like the back of my hand.

Meanwhile, I can hear the hustle and bustle of the hospital in the hallway just outside my door, and only left to wonder what could possibly be happening just on the other side.

I carefully turn my head to look out the window, and I can clearly see how dark and gray the skies appear. The clouds are completely blocking any sunlight, while the leaves from the trees blow in the wind haphazardly. It's obvious that a storm is brewing, but I couldn't tell how big. I then realize I'm not in the same room I was in once before, at least I don't think I am. The TV is now on the opposite wall, showcasing a random rerun of some popular sitcom with my bed facing toward it. My last room didn't have a window as opposed to this one, and even the positioning of the bathroom seems to have changed.

I continue to keep quiet as I readjust to all of my different surroundings and senses. It then hits me that I haven't seen a certain _someone_ I think in a couple of days now. I know she has blonde hair, but I can't remember her name for the life of me. The door to my room then starts to open, and I gradually turn my head to notice a tall, slim guy stepping inside. He's holding a clipboard in his hands, wears glasses over his eyes, has gray, thinning hair, and has on a long white coat. His smile is eager as he walks up to my bedside, and I soon recognize him as Dr. Warner.

"It's nice to you see awake, and looking around," he says, although I can't say or react much as even the muscles in my face seemed to have temporarily stopped working.

He briefly gazes down at his clipboard. "Anyways, your agenda for today is pretty straightforward. We'll try to get you to eat something before proceeding on with your rehab, and taking notes of your progress as we go. Sounds good?" he asks.

I'm still unable to respond, which I assume he's aware of, but I attempt to try anyway. I slowly start to part my lips, though only about a centimeter, and even that felt like a lot of work.

Dr. Warner gently touches my shoulder. "Don't worry, you don't have to try speaking right now. Besides, I'm almost certain I know what you'd say if you could," he says, and I'm beginning to feel more and more frustrated with each knew discovered thing I can't seem to do.

Dr. Warner heads back toward the door, but looks back at me one final time before exiting the room. "A nurse will be right in with your breakfast," he assures me, and just like that he's gone just as fast as he showed up.

My eyes then divert to the floor as I hope the nurse coming to see me is the blonde I so vastly admire, but my hopes are immediately crushed as the nurse coming into my room instead is both male and familiar looking. I believe he's her boyfriend, but I'm not entirely sure due to the fogginess of my mind.

A lively grin is plastered on his lips as he approaches me, pushing a cart ahead of him full of food, and stops just short of my hospital bed. He looks down on me, his green eyes studying every part of my body as if calculating how to handle me.

"How's it going?" he asks, casually, although this time I don't even try to respond. He then briefly looks up at the television. " _The Big Bang Theory_ , huh? You know, I actually really love this show," he says, happily, while continuing to smile.

Is that what this show was called? I've never seen it before, but not like I watched a lot of television to begin with. Instead, typically spending my days with either pot to smoke, or brownies to eat. It's then not too long after that I notice him reaching a hand down toward the bed, and lifting one of my arms by the wrist before softly beginning to massage it.

"How is this? Can you feel anything at all?"

I did. I might not have been able to willingly move my arms and legs on my own, but I could still sense the touch from others. I attempt to nod my head in response to his question, and I think I'm successful, although only by a little.

"That's great," he says, grinning, apparently noticing the subtle gesture of my slight head nod.

Several minutes go by as he continues to massage every part of my body, and sure enough can I slowly feel my stiff muscles beginning to relax. It has me eager to try moving parts of my body on my own, but still aware that I shouldn't rush anything.

Eventually, the guy subsides, pushing the button on the side of my bed to raise me, and soon I'm sitting high enough to actually eat something without worry of making a mess. He pulls the cart closer, so it's positioned just above my thighs, and removes a lid off of the plate in front of me. I can see I've been given pancakes, yogurt, and a banana along with some apple juice—the staff evidently opting to give me food that's easy to chew and swallow.

The guy starts off by feeding me, which I'm totally against. It feels humiliating not being able to do simple stuff like eating for myself, despite the fact that I'm not a kid anymore. Nevertheless, the pancakes taste delicious—as delicious as hospital food can be, anyway—and considering I haven't eaten in a while, I wasn't going to be picky.

The yogurt was okay, and I only ate about half of the banana, which he offered to let me try eating myself. It's been at least two hours since the time of him coming into my room, and even now I still struggled with his name. I know I've seen him around before, but when I try reading his name tag, the letters merely look jumbled and blurry. My frustration level is rising, and I don't know how much more I can take of this.

I watch him as he calmly pushes the cart away from my bed prior to walking back over to me. His once never-ending smile has completely disappeared, replacing it with a stern expression, and I can't imagine what he's thinking right now.

"You did good," he finally says, so I guess I should feel relieved.

However, there's a look in his eyes that's signifying something different, and I don't know if it has to do with me or something else. Another silhouette then peeks into the room, and the guy and I both look at the doorway to witness who it is. My heart then instantly jolts as I recognize her as the blonde nurse, and her smile is overly attractive and charismatic as she practically skips her way further inside of the room. Just the sight of her beautiful face and gleeful personality has my lips wanting to lift up into a grin, although the corner of my mouth is all I can pull off.

She walks pass the guy right to me, and bends down toward my face. Her hand gently grazes my cheek, and my skin quickly turns hot.

"The brown in your eyes is glistening," she whispers soothingly, and I'm almost certain I can feel the other side of my mouth starting to lift.

She then turns back around to the male nurse, her back turned to me as I notice the two of them getting close, and unfortunately catching a glimpse of a brief kiss between them.

Momentarily, my smile falters at the sudden affection, but the minute her eyes look back into mine, all is forgiven. I don't know how long it's been since we've seen each other, but seeing her now makes it feel like eons ago.

I closely stare at her moving lips, lingering onto every word as she talks to the guy standing behind her, while still looking at me. "How is his eating? I'm sure he had to be famished,"

"He did good. He's slowly starting to gain some of his strength back, so it won't be long before he can fully eat on his own again."

The blonde's smile seems to grow even larger by the good news. "Well, look at you. I see someone's eager to get out of here."

"Yeah, Dr. Warner has him scheduled for rehab now, which I'm sure is why you're here, right?"

"Maybe…" she murmurs, melodically, and biting the corner of her lip, which is a hint to me that she's lying.

Damn, she's cute.

The guy behind her arches an eyebrow, chuckling lightly. "Maybe? What does that mean?"

She shrugs. "Sometimes I visit patients just to be with them," she says, "If I'm not wanted somewhere else, then giving them some company is always nice too," she explains, a gleam brightly sparkling within her blue eyes.

She's absolutely amazing, and nobody should try to fight me on this. It's like every new thing I learn, I fall for her all over again. I'm completely head over heels, and I don't even care.

"Well, aren't you a sweetheart," the guy says, leaning to kiss her cheek, and she blushes. "But seriously, are you the one doing his therapy?"

"Yes," she nods, and I'm fucking ecstatic.

"Alright, I'll get out of your way then. Do you need help with anything before I go?"

"Thanks, but no thanks, Evan," she answers, and a bell seems to go off in my brain from the announcement of his name.

He smiles. "Okay, Maya. I'll see you later."

With that being said, he starts to leave the room, rolling the cart out with him, and soon it's just her and I. It pains me that I couldn't remember her name on my own, especially considering how I feel about her, but at least I know now, and I will do everything in my power not to forget it again.

She then carefully sits down on the bed beside me and for a while, neither of us say a word. I mean, I don't think I could even if I tried, but she of course would be my prime motivation.

The silence drifting between us is calm and comforting as we look into each other's eyes, and frankly, I wouldn't mind this lasting forever. I didn't even notice the moment her hand touched mine until a few minutes after the fact, and I guess that's just how natural I feel whenever I'm with her.

I know she's just a volunteer and I know she has a boyfriend, but who really cares about any of that when we're alone, and I'm the only one she's giving all of her attention to?

Maya presses the button to lower the bed prior to subsequently easing her way down to lay beside me, and gingerly intertwines her hand with mine. Elsewhere, I feel as if I'm going to slip into unconsciousness by the innocent yet passionate gesture. Ultimately, overwhelmed by her closeness.

The bed isn't significantly large, our arms pressed up against one another's, but I'm not one to complain as we lie on our backs, and stare up at the ceiling. I've been doing this all day, but for some reason doing it with Maya beside me feels a whole lot more electrifying. Meanwhile, the scene is pure bliss as she starts to talk, and her alluring voice flows whimsically through my ears.

"I'm so happy to see you getting better, Joshua," she says, and I cringe a little bit at the mention of her enunciating my whole first name. People usually just call me Josh, and I wanted her to do the same. As far as I'm concerned, I felt we were close enough. "I just can't wait to hear your voice." Maya proclaims, a blush blatantly visible along her cheeks.

The confession literally has my heart throbbing, my stomach doing backflips, and the hairs on my arms starting to dance. I want nothing more than to keep Maya smiling, and she has no idea how much I want to talk for her, too.

"You've probably noticed that I haven't been around lately," she admits, knocking me free of my thoughts, but also confirming my previous suspicions. "it's because I finally performed for the first time in front of a crowd. I sung my song to hundreds of people, and my body still feels like it's shaking. The whole experience was like an adrenaline rush, and I would do anything to have that feeling back. People chanting my name, demanding for an encore, and smiling wide with a glint in their eyes. I couldn't help breaking down into the tears the minute I finished singing, and I only wish you were there with me to see it." Maya says, and I can sense her staring at me as I turn my head to meet her gaze.

Eventually, another peaceful silence surrounds us, while our lips are far too close for me to ignore the idea of kissing her, and I don't hide the fact that I'm repeatedly gazing back and forth between her eyes and her lips.

She then bites the corner of her bottom lip, nervous as she smiles. "I got my brother to record it, though and I promise the minute you're well enough, I'll show it to you."

We continue to lay in bed together, and I've stopped trying to keep track of time as I would much rather have Maya here beside me for the rest of the day. She's constantly making promises to me, and I trust her enough not to betray her words.

I listen as she proceeds talk to me, considering I still couldn't contribute much to the conversation. She starts telling me more about herself, which feels like an endless list of wonderful traits and attributes.

Her favorite color is yellow, she's nineteen, loves Mexican food, dislikes the Winter time, enjoys art with a passion, and has a pet ferret. Everything about her is interesting to me, and the way she gets my insides churning just by touching or looking at me is undeniably soothing.

Afterwards, she finally decides to assist me to the rehabilitation room, so I can practice my walking, and not even for a second does she ever leave my side. Her words are encouraging, her touches alleviating, and only then did I wish that she could be mine.

I'm not saying, Evan isn't deserving of a girl like Maya. He is a nice guy, but something about him just steers me wrong the way. Call me stubborn, but the way Maya looks at me isn't nearly as longing as the way she looks at Evan. Maybe she needs a change of pace in the boyfriend department, and I will be more than willing to hold her in my arms, and run with her.

I don't know if this feeling I have is love, and I hate to even question it, but Maya needs to know how I feel about her, and I refuse to let some so-called-boyfriend stop it from happening.

I am no longer _Sleepy Beauty_ but, _Prince Charming_ seeking for that first kiss with the girl of his dreams. Maya is truly a Cinderella in disguise, and I will do anything to have this twisted fairy tale of mine finish with a happy ending.

I would make sure of it.

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

This chapter was written entirely in Josh's point of view, and is simply a refreshing insight into how he truly feels about Maya. Now that Josh is finally on the path to recovery, I wanted to write a chapter that showcases the genuine feelings he and Maya have for one another.

 **Recap:**

1\. Josh is going through rehab, and is experiencing slight short-term memory loss.

2\. Maya promises to share her performance with Josh once he's moving around and talking.

3\. Josh has suspicions about Evan, and plans to tell Maya how he feels, despite him.

Thanks to everyone that read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation! I've already started writing Chapter Seven, which should be posted in the next couple of days, especially if I continue to get reviews. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Seven || _Late Night Escapade_.

She confidently struts through the revolving doors of the hospital, head high as she anticipates another visit with her brown eyed best friend. It's been a few days since she's come to see him, and excited to hopefully hear him walking and talking. A smile begins to curl along her lips as she enters onto the elevator, and watching as the doors close in front of her. Two other people are quietly riding up with her, although Jasmine hardly even notices them as the only thing on her mind is Josh.

She hasn't seen him since the day of her chivalrous kiss with him, and staring into his eyes for the first time in weeks. Jasmine couldn't help the tears that tenaciously flowed down her rosy cheeks like a waterfall, or the heartache she felt when he didn't say anything back to her. Instead, merely left to wonder what his first thoughts could've been the minute they laid eyes on one another. She wanted nothing more than to hold him in a close embrace, and feel the steady pace of his heartbeat.

Jasmine hated the constant guilt that weighed heavily on her shoulders since the moment she heard of his accident, and finding nobody else to blame but herself. She allowed Josh to walk away, and now he's having to deal with recovering just enough to do things all on his own again. She should've fought harder, screamed louder, and pleaded stronger. Josh didn't understand how much his friendship with her meant, and he probably never will. After all, how meaningful is a kiss with someone if they're too weak to enjoy it?

Jasmine turns a corner, reaching the hallway of Josh's room, and suddenly slowing down her pace the closer she gets to his door. The unpredictable reaction and look in his eye the second she's standing across from him has her skeptical with still wanting to see him, but she can't back out now. Andrew hadn't come along this time, so now she was left to stay positive and optimistic for Josh all by herself.

She takes a deep breath once she's standing outside of his room before shakily moving a hand toward the doorknob. Her palms are sweaty, her pulse feels jittery, and her head feels as if it's throbbing.

Jasmine gradually opens the door, peeking her head inside, and momentarily seeing nobody at all. Her curiosity then rises as she steps more into the room, while reciting Josh's name. "Josh? Are you here?"

There isn't an immediate response, but the more Jasmine walks into the room, the more she's able to see as she pulls a curtain back.

He's sitting in a chair right in front of the window, his back out due to the open view of the hospital gown. A light smile dances along her lips as she tiptoes closer to him from behind until finally she's standing right beside him.

Josh doesn't react to her presence or even turns his head to gaze at her, but Jasmine's for certain he knows that she's there. She looks out of the window to witness what he's staring at, and quickly notices the captivating sight of the sunset and vibrant streaks of color that litter across the previously blue sky. A few birds fly gracefully with their wings spread wide, and almost all the clouds have vanished as night is beginning to takeover.

Jasmine knows visiting hours are nearly over, wishing she could've came earlier, but having to reschedule her plans as it was necessary for the surprise she has set up.

Her eyes briefly glance over to Josh, watching as he continues to keep quiet, and itching to know whether or not he can talk yet. She softly drapes a hand onto his shoulder, feeling the slightest sense of his body tensing up, and she immediately pulls her hand away.

Dr. Warner did warn her that his attitude would probably come off as a little distant, considering he's still adjusting to moving around again, and from the restlessness of being stuck in the hospital. She slowly bends down closer to his face, and whispers delicately into his ear.

"Hi, Josh..."

He doesn't respond immediately, but eventually turns his head to ultimately look into her eyes for the first time since her arrival. Jasmine widely smiles, and Josh's lips subtly curve upward as well. She can't contain her excitement any longer.

"Josh, do… do you recognize me?" she asks, terrified for the answer, but sees as he gently nods his head.

Jasmine can feel herself wanting to cry, but painfully fighting the urge as she carefully turns his chair, so his body is facing her. She squats down in front of him, and the two intently look into each other's eyes—Jasmine's stare longing as she searches the depths of his brown irises for a sign, any sign at all that he's just as happy to see her as she is to see him.

Her eyes then widen as she witnesses his lips growing ample, and air is temporarily dislodged in her throat as she awaits the inevitable. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, barely audible, but Jasmine hears him easily, and no longer can she withstand the tears begging to slide down her cheeks.

She hastily stands up straight, and tightly wrapping her arms around his neck. Her tears are hardy as they drop on the sleeve of his hospital gown, and Josh's feeble arms slowly begin to hug her backside. Jasmine couldn't believe his first words to her after several weeks were an apology, and although she appreciated it, no apology was necessary.

Their hug finally subsides, and Jasmine gingerly caresses a hand to his cheek. He isn't smiling anymore, but she can still see the remorse in his eyes.

Jasmine sniffles. "Do you remember my name, Josh?" Jasmine inquires, recalling the doctor's mention of his struggling memory.

Josh visibly racks his brain in hopes of having an answer, and soon replies, "Ja—Jasmine…" He says, and Jasmine is relieved.

She sighs thankfully. "That's right," she says, and Josh faintly smiles. "Josh, you don't understand how worried you had me… us."

"And I wouldn't change a thing," he admits, and soon Jasmine's smile falters.

She reluctantly furrows her eyebrows, speculating the meaning behind his words. "What do you mean? Why not?" she asks, confused by his implication, but also happy of how well his talking is.

"I _love_ pot, Jasmine," Josh says, boldly, and Jasmine looks at him questioningly. "I hate that I do, but I can't stop how I feel."

"Yes, you can, Josh!" Jasmine exclaims, grasping his hands, and Josh rolls his eyes. It doesn't take long for him to remove himself out of her grip, and Jasmine looks at him speechlessly.

He was nearly on the verge of losing his life, but fortunately he prevailed. Jasmine doesn't understand how he can still think about weed and drugs, while still in the hospital, and only scared that the odds of Josh fully recovering were looking unlikely.

Her tears of joy instantly transform to those of agony. "Are you okay? You do realize pot is what's gotten you into this mess, right?"

"I don't care, Jasmine!" Josh hollers, causing Jasmine to flinch, and she looks at him fretfully. "I'm an addict, and addicts don't care how life threatening the drugs are! Once you experience a little, you're eventually begging for more! I need to have it!"

"Stop it, Josh! No, you don't!"

"Why the hell is it that _you're_ the one in denial and not me," Josh shouts, silencing Jasmine indefinitely.

She doesn't see Josh as a drug addict, and pondering whether or not irritability is possibly another symptom or something. He clearly has a minor concussion due to the impact of the car crash if he's fighting to remember things, and the wieldy frustration had to go along with it.

Josh pushes his chair back, attempting to stand up, and Jasmine clearly sees his body starting to tremble. Despite their argument, she still wants to help him. She cautiously wraps her arms around him, trying to steady him, but Josh stubbornly fights her off.

"I don't need your help."

"Josh, please,"

"I said, no!" Josh yells, frightening Jasmine, and she uncontrollably backs away. The look of rage in his eyes ultimately scaring her enough to cower in fear.

She then clenches her jaw, and stares at him determinedly. "Josh, I want to help you. Just let me help you over to the bed," Jasmine demands, attempting to aid him once more, but Josh quickly begins to fight with her.

"Fuck off me, Jasmine—" Josh bellows, but promptly losing his footing as both him and Jasmine topple over, falling onto the edge of the bed, and Jasmine gasps.

She mistakenly falls on top of him after wrestling with one another, and Josh's face distorts into a look of distress as he hisses painfully.

Jasmine hastily gets off of him. "Oh my gosh, Josh I am _so_ sorry!" she cries, cupping her hands over her mouth, and soon noticing a figure materializing in the doorway.

She gazes up to see Dr. Warner, and he looks anything but pleased. "What happened here?"

"I didn't—We fell—I mean, I was trying to help him, and—"

"Joshua," Dr. Warner frets, speeding over to Josh's side, and absently shoving Jasmine out of the way. She glances over his shoulder at the scene. "Are you all right? Tell me what hurts," Warner pleas, and both him and Jasmine look on as Josh's whispers something too quiet for either of them to hear.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you."

" _Maya_ ," Josh says louder, gritting her name through his teeth. "I want Maya. _Where is Maya_?"

Warner briefly looks over his shoulder, staring at Jasmine, and she quickly recognizes the name as belonging to the nurse with the blonde hair and blue eyes. She deeply breaths as she tightens her fists, while Warner glances back to Josh. "I'm sorry, Josh but Maya isn't here today. None of our volunteers are on Sundays."

"I just want to see her…" Josh replies, his voice shaky as tears start to well up in his eyes, and Jasmine utterly feels bad.

If it weren't for aggravating him, Josh wouldn't even be asking about the said nurse, and Jasmine loathed herself for allowing the feelings to surface. She suspected there was something going on between Josh and the blue eyed nurse, but still tried not to think too much of it. Nevertheless, grateful she'd apparently been absent today.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but you'll see her soon." Dr. Warner responds, and helping Josh to sit comfortably back onto the bed. He then looks behind himself at Jasmine, and she stiffens. "I think it'd be best if you leave."

"What? But I can't! I mean, not yet." Jasmine proclaims, and Warner looks at her suspiciously.

He arches an eyebrow. "Listen, I know you're worried about Mr. Matthews, but like I've been telling you he's going to be fine. Besides, visiting hours are just about over, and he clearly needs to rest."

"I know, I understand that, but—" Jasmine argues, but is cut short by a voice drowning out her own.

Everyone glances to the doorway, and Josh's jaw slowly drops. Meanwhile, Dr. Warner looks interested, and Jasmine appears nervous.

Josh eagerly leans his back up off the bed, and stares at his mom breathlessly. "Mom… what are you doing here?"

"Apparently wasting my time," she moans, and locking eyes with Jasmine. Josh follows her gaze, and looks at his friend curiously.

"I… I don't get it?"

"Josh," Jasmine says, walking up to his bedside, and tightly gripping the bars of the bed. She wanted to surprise Josh with a visit from his parents, considering they originally agreed to cut all ties with their son, while he'd still been doing drugs. However, somehow convincing his mom to show up had still been mind boggling. "I know you haven't seen your mom and dad in a really long time. I invited your mom to come since I knew you've been getting better, and I know deep down, she still loves and cares about you."

Josh glances back at his mom to study her reaction, and watches as she stands with her arms folded across her chest. A stern expression is plastered along her facial features, and he can't even remember the last time the two of them were in the same room together.

Amy casually steps closer to him, but still being a reasonable distance away. "I _do_ love you, Josh, but I thought I raised you better than this."

Josh stares at the floor solemnly, and Jasmine quickly decides to pipe in after catching glimpse of the sorrowful look in his eyes. "He feels really terrible, Mrs. Matthews. Josh doesn't want to be this person, but I don't think anything any of us can say will be enough to persuade him otherwise."

"And why is that?" Amy retorts, staring at her son, and Josh's once regretful countenance soon turns into a look of agitation.

His stare is piercing as he looks at the woman standing beside him, and secretly wishing that Jasmine didn't bring her here. Josh has been doing drugs since the moment he dropped out of college, and the way his mother treated him after hearing the news practically driving him right to the drugs in an attempt to numb the pain and ease the stress. However, he hadn't planned to enjoy it as much as he does, and now struggling to eliminate the critical aspect of his life.

Amy sighs, raising her arms in defeat. "Whatever, Joshua. If this is what you choose to do with your life, then fine. Your father and I still hope that you'll come to your senses and let go of this ridiculous lifestyle once for and all, but until you do, things will quickly go back to the way they were before—everybody keeping their distance from you."

"Mrs. Matthews, don't you think that's a little harsh? He's clearly hurting right now," Jasmine says, and Amy shrugs.

"He's clearly not hurting enough to stop. I'm leaving now." And with that, Amy's figure promptly disappears, and once again only Josh, Jasmine, and Dr. Warner remain.

Jasmine narrows her gaze at Josh. He's looking in the direction of his feet with a angered expression, and Warner softly touches a hand to her shoulder. She timidly looks up at him. "It's time for you to go,"

"Okay…" She replies, ambling to the doorway, and looking back at Josh one final time before fully walking out.

 _I'm a horrible friend_.

Josh is going through a tough time right now, and while she thinks she's the answers to all his problems, it's really _Maya_ that apparently has his heart on lock. Jasmine doesn't know how, but is determined to get to the bottom of it. Although for now, unfortunately having to part ways with Josh for the night, but she'll be back. Josh isn't getting rid of her that easily, and soon she'll have him wishing she never left.

.::.

I'm fast asleep in my room when I suddenly hear the ringer of my cell phone going off. I'm tempted to ignore it as I'm too exhausted to even turn over or sit up, and just when I think the ringing will finally stop and roll over to voicemail, it quickly starts to ring again. Whoever's trying to get in touch with me this late is very persistent, leaving me no choice but to at least check the caller ID.

My eyes are still closed as I lazily reach my arm to the nightstand where my phone is charging prior to squinting them open to peek at the number. It isn't recognizable, but I opt to answer anyway. I briefly yawn before pressing the green connect button, and holding the phone up to my ear as I talk while still half asleep.

"Hello?" I groan, sleepily, and the voice on the other end sounds distinctly familiar.

I hurriedly sit up in bed suddenly wide awake and alert, and feeling the abrupt pace of my heartbeat. "Hi, Maya."

"Farkle," I say, anxiously. "This _is_ Farkle Minkus, right?"

"Yes, it is. Also, I'm sorry for calling you so late," he apologizes, and I momentarily pull the phone away from my face to check the time. It's nearly one o'clock in the morning.

I smile sheepishly. "No worries. I'm sure you wouldn't call if it wasn't important." I presume, and for a minute, Farkle doesn't respond. I start to wonder if he's still on the phone, but luckily the call hasn't been disconnected.

Eventually, he clears his throat. "Yeah, actually… it's not _that_ important." Farkle admits, and my eyebrows furrow in perplexity.

"Oh? Then what is it? Is something wrong?"

" _No_ , everything's fine," he says, almost immediately. "It's just… and I know this is sudden, but would it be possible for me to see you?" Farkle asks, and a shiver briefly travels down my spine as I'm nervous and skeptical.

I don't say anything for a while, and soon it's Farkle that has to wonder if _I'm_ still on the phone. "Are you there? Maya?"

"Yeah, I'm… sorry."

"Listen, I know this probably sounds strange, asking us to meet at such a late hour, but this can't wait until morning, so I figured I'd take a chance and ask you."

"What is this about?" I ask, nervously. I haven't seen Farkle since my audition, and judging by the way we left things, I thought things were good between us.

He's silent for a few seconds, contemplating. "To be blunt, _you_." Farkle says, matter-of-factly, and I can instantly feel dozens of knots beginning to twist and tug inside of my stomach.

I purse my lips skittishly. "You're scaring me now, Farkle."

"No, it's not anything bad… necessarily," he mumbles, "Honest, I just want to talk to you. Are you able?" he says, inquisitively, and my eyes rapidly dart around every inch of my room as I calculate an answer and strategic plan for sneaking out.

I nod my head hesitantly as if he can see me. "Where should I meet you?"

"Actually…" Farkle tapers, and I cock a brow suspiciously. "I'm parked in front of your house," he says, and my eyes widen.

I swiftly hop out of bed, skipping over to the window, pulling the curtains back, and sure enough I see a silhouette leaning against the side of a car on the curb opposite of my house, and my cheeks flush. The street light shines bright enough for me to see his face, and I notice as he shyly waves, while still holding the phone to his ear.

I bite my lip, waving back. "I might've snuck a peek of the file you submitted when signing up, which is how I have your number and address." Farkle confesses, and I stifle a giggle. "And believe me, it wasn't easy as my father typically keeps all of his important papers securely locked up. However, his safes are no match for me when I'm truly determined."

"Is that so?" I tease, and I swear I can hear him smiling through the phone. I couldn't quite see his lips to confirm whether he really is or not, but I kind of like the mystery aspect of it.

"So, are you in? You're sure about this?"

"I'll be down in five," I say, eagerly, and hanging up the phone to start getting ready.

I apparently fell asleep in the clothes I was wearing all day since I allowed Grayson into my room to play video games, and I guess sometime after eleven we were passed out from all the excitement and junk food. He claims my television is better than his, which he's not wrong, but the only way I'll agree to him coming in is if he lets me play. I notice him still knocked out on my beanbag chair at the foot of my bed, and his lips are ajar as he quietly snores.

I contemplate whether to be nice and give him a blanket, or give him a wet willie and kick him out of my room in the process, but ultimately opting to be nice. Besides, him asleep will probably make sneaking out a whole lot easier.

I slip on some shoes, grab a jacket along with my phone and keys, and quietly close my bedroom door as I step out into the hallway. The house is immensely silent as I gaze in the direction of my mom and Shawn's room before hurriedly but soundlessly creeping down the stairs en route for the front door.

It's not like I know Farkle all that much even trying to Google him sometime after my performance when I got home that day, but it mainly just mentions how he's the son of Stuart Minkus, a successful businessman, entrepreneur, and billionaire. Regardless, there's something about Farkle that I trust. I don't see him as the harmful type, and it has me that much more excited to know what he wants to talk to me about. He says it's nothing bad, but I'm not entirely certain judging by the tone of his voice.

I finish locking the front door, and practically sprinting across the street to Farkle. I see him opening his arms, and I instinctively run in to hug him. We don't part until after several seconds, and Farkle's face looks vividly red.

He smirks tautly. "Sorry, I hope that was okay. When you hugged me before, I think I was little rude since I didn't genuinely hug you back," he explains, and I do remember noticing how nervous he seemed at the time.

I shake my head dismissively. "Don't worry about it," I assure, and Farkle intensely stares at me as he proceeds to grin.

"Shall we?" he asks, gesturing to his car, and I nod.

Farkle walks to the other side of the car with me, opening the door, and even closing it once I'm inside. I watch him walk back around the front of the car to the driver's side, and hopping in beside me. We buckle ourselves in prior to gazing at one another, and I can't help laughing as we look playfully at each other.

"Ready? This will be fun, I promise." Farkle says, and I take his word for it.

I don't know where he's taking us, or when we'll be back, but I hope I can manage to pull this off without getting caught. Although if I don't, well then, I hope all of this will have been worth it.

Farkle cranks up the car, his foot on the brake as he shifts gears, and soon we're off cruising down the streets at twilight. I then finally notice that the inside of his car isn't as lavish or expensive looking as I previously assumed it would be, considering his father is rich, but now that I think about it, Farkle strikes me as the kind of person, who'd rather work and earn his possessions instead of simply allowing his dad to buy him things.

I admire that about him.

Every so often, we're sneaking glances at one another, and my heart truly skips a beat anytime we're caught looking at each other.

Farkle looks like the typical smart guy, sleek, and rational, while still having a fun personality about him. I didn't think he could be the reckless type to drive late at night after getting a girl out of her house, and taking them to some secret location.

If he has a girlfriend, then I'm sure he's the romantic type. And if he doesn't have a girlfriend, well…

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

Now I wasn't planning to post two chapters back-to-back, but I guess it works since last chapter was probably more of a filler. I also absolutely _love_ this chapter, so I couldn't wait any longer for you all to read it.

 **Recap:**

1\. Jasmine has another visit with Josh at the hospital where she learns he isn't willing to give up drugs.

2\. Josh is surprised when his mother shows up at the hospital, although her visit isn't long or pleasant.

3\. Josh has a moment of weakness, asking for Maya, and Jasmine soon realizes she's got some competition.

4\. Maya gets a phone call from Farkle in the middle of the night, who apparently wants to meet up and talk. **_What do you think it's about?_**

Thanks to everyone that read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you all loved it as much as I do. I'm in the process of writing Chapter Eight, but will not post it until I get at least **3+ reviews** , but with the lengthy chapter, that hopefully shouldn't be an issue.

I want you guys, too to tell me what you thought of the scene with Maya and Farkle. It will continue into the next chapter, and then you'll know what it is Farkle wants to talk about. I know I wrote them smiling a lot each other, but I just couldn't help how adorable that looks in my head. Sabrina just looks so cute when she's smiling and laughing to the point of her nose scrunching up.

Anyways, until next chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Eight || _Mantra_.

The music resonating from the radio of the car is just enough to counteract how quiet it is as neither Farkle or I talk much to each other. The silence between us isn't necessarily awkward as I'm honestly itching to say something to him, to ask him about what it is we're doing, but opting to contain the urge as I'll know soon enough. We've been riding for almost twenty minutes, and there's even been a few times when I've nearly nodded off to sleep since I'd only gotten a few hours of rest before Farkle's unexpected phone call. However, I would immediately straighten up the minute the car hits a pothole or swerves around a sharp corner. I wanted to be wide awake for whatever it is Farkle wants to talk to me about, and I don't want to come off as rude if he's trying to explain something to me, and I'm slowly falling asleep like I don't care about what it is he has to say.

Farkle tightly keeps his hands at ten and two of the steering wheel, his stare intense, and sitting up straight as he safely drives through the city. I subtly take a glance at the profile of his face, admiring the broad bone structure, and wondering what he's thinking right now. What was the purpose of all this? I mean, couldn't we have just talked outside my house rather than having to go somewhere? Don't get me wrong, I didn't see the harm in a late-night adventure together just the two of us, but the more time that goes by without me knowing anything, the more suspicious I am that what he has to tell me can't be good.

I then eventually start to listen to the lyrics of the current song playing, hoping that recognizing it will be enough to distract myself, and I quickly quirk an eyebrow. The beat sounds awfully familiar, and on impulse I reach my hand out to turn up the volume.

" _Stuck On You_?" I say, curiously, and looking over to notice Farkle faintly smirking.

"Yeah,"

"I didn't know you were an Elvis Presley fan?" I reply, realizing that we weren't listening to the radio, but an Elvis Presley CD. I'd been drowning out the music almost the entire trip, and with the volume low, it took me a while to realize it.

Farkle shrugs sheepishly. "I admire a lot of his songs, I guess. My father had gotten me an Elvis vinyl record for my birthday, and whenever I have some spare time, I find myself listening to it."

"What's your favorite Elvis song?" I ask, eager to know for some strange reason. I don't know why, but learning more about the infamous Farkle Minkus has me on the edge of my seat.

He takes a minute to think about it and says, "Probably _Devil In Disguise_." I smirk.

The drive continues for another ten minutes, Farkle and I passing the time by loudly jamming out to a list of Elvis Presley hits. I then notice as we're pulling up along the curb of a luxurious and upscale hotel. My jaw drops as I'm stuck absently gazing at the massive building in awe, and it's not until I can feel Farkle's hand on my shoulder that I finally snap back to reality.

"Come on, I don't want to keep you out any longer than necessary."

"What are we doing at a hotel?" I ask, completely ignoring his request. The more I went along with this, the more I didn't understand.

Farkle looks at me steadily. "This is the hotel my father, crew, and I are staying out, while we're in town," he admits, "but don't tell anyone."

"That still doesn't explain why we had to come all the way here just to talk," I argue, my eyebrows knitted together as I glare at Farkle questioningly. Maybe it's because I don't get out enough or maybe it's because he made this wild stunt of meeting up in the middle of the night to talk sound interesting, but I'm suddenly not so sure about this.

"Do you trust me?" Farkle asks, and I purse my lips skeptically.

"I don't know anymore."

"Well, it's too late to change your mind," he says, opening his door, and stepping out. I'm speechless as I'm momentarily sitting in the car alone, and looking out the window of the driver's side as Farkle hands a man his keys, who must be the valet.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, and hop of the car just before the guy can get in, and drive the car away. Farkle is standing on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, and I take another brief look at the hotel behind him.

Farkle gestures his head toward the door. "Let's go," he says, walking ahead of me.

"Farkle!" I yell, but he just keeps walking. I look both ways before jogging to follow after him, and the minute I'm inside, I can't help but stop to take a look of the interior.

The hotel appears spotless and sufficient as employees adequately do their jobs. A beautiful chandelier is hanging gracefully from the ceiling, and the fabric of the carpet looks woven to perfection with its intricate pattern. A concierge desk is just to the right of me, and on the far opposite end of the lobby is an entry into a bar.

I subsequently spot Farkle waiting for an elevator, and catch up to him just as the doors begin to open. Once we're inside and I notice that we're alone, I don't waste any time demanding for some answers. I wasn't going to simply comply with his intentions anymore. I firmly grab his shirt into my fist, and pulling him close as our noses nearly touch. His gaze is nonchalant as we look into each other's eyes, and it's making me nervous. "What was that?" I question, frantically.

"What do you mean?"

"Outside. First, you ask if I trust you, and then you just leave me in the car? What the heck are you planning?"

"Maya, I promise you that I just want to talk," he reassures me. "I just thought it would be nicer and more private if we talked somewhere secluded." Farkle murmurs, and I raise an eyebrow. If he's planning to kill me right after this, then maybe I should just leave now, while I still have the option.

Farkle gently but forcefully yanks my hand off his shirt, smoothing it out. "You seem scared."

I roll my eyes and scoff. _You mean, it wasn't obvious?_ "Yeah, well… I know how to protect myself if the situation calls for it, so I wouldn't try anything if I were you."

"Please, Maya," he pleas, "What kind of guy do you take me for?" Farkle says, silencing me. I truly see him as a nice guy, but I guess anything is debatable at this point.

We're still riding on the elevator, passing several floors, and I glare at Farkle from the corner of my eye. I'm standing with my arms crossed, and leaning against the wall of the elevator, while Farkle casually stands upright, patiently waiting for the doors to open on the appropriate floor. There's then a ding, signaling the doors beginning to open, and Farkle looks at me.

"We're here," he says, and I look ahead of us to see that we're on the rooftop of the hotel.

I'm breathless as I perceive the breathtaking sight in front of us. I slowly walk off of the elevator, and there's lights hanging above my head, multiple chairs, tables, and a long couch that aligns with the perimeter of a rooftop corner. There's even a pool in the center of it all.

Farkle is already leaning against the ledge of the roof, staring out at the city, and I quietly creep up behind him. I stand beside him, briefly looking at the skyline, and soon narrowing my eyes to look at him. Farkle's face looks calm, and his gaze eventually meets mine as he senses me staring at him.

"Are you finally going to tell me what this is about?" I say, expectantly.

Farkle sighs. "It's about your performance," he hints, and my heart immediately drops. The tone in his voice makes me believe I did something wrong, and I don't think I can handle knowing the truth.

"Okay, _and_? What about it?" I say, feeling left in suspense. I thought my performance was great, although I'm probably being bias.

Farkle can barely even look me in the eyes. "I've been eavesdropping on my father about his choice winner for the auditions, and the results don't look to be in your favor." Farkle announces, and it feels as if all time has stopped at the mention of the bad news.

Farkle stares at me sympathetically. "However, for the record, I don't agree with him at all. I watched your performance to the very end, and the passion in your eyes when you sing is tremendously heartwarming. It's like nothing I've ever seen. You make people feel things, Maya, and I know my father sees the potential."

"Then why... why not me? Who else is he leaning toward?"

"Unfortunately, you weren't the only singing act of the night." Farkle says, and I anxiously twist my lips. "My father loved you, but I think he loves the other guy more."

"Wait, _guy_?" I repeat, and Farkle looks at me curiously. I try to think back to the guy he's talking about, and soon an image of him materializes in my mind.

Afterwards, I don't say anything at all. I can feel Farkle gazing at me, and I quickly exhale and smile. I didn't want to show any signs of weakness or vulnerability. "Maya?"

"I'm fine," I say, feigning confidence. "If that's who your father wants to sponsor and manage, then what can I do? I gave it my all, and I wouldn't change a thing." I smile, fighting the urge to break down into tears. I need to appear strong right now, especially in front of Farkle.

"I'm sorry, Maya. I know how much you really wanted this."

I shrug. "I mean, he hasn't made a final decision yet, so I might still have a chance. Regardless, I'm not giving up. I will continue to sing until my voice runs out even if it's just for one person." I say, and Farkle weakly smiles at me before dipping his mouth into a frown.

"I still don't get why you had to drag me out of my house for this, though."

"We leave tomorrow. It's off to the next city, and I just wanted to give you the bad news in a calm, peaceful atmosphere, hoping it might lighten your mood a little. Also…" Farkle tapers, and I arch an eyebrow. "Constantly traveling like this, I don't have many people to talk to. I'm usually an outcast in my everyday life, and it seems at times that my girlfriend Isadora is the only one, who understands me. Not a lot of people care to befriend the nerdy, wimpy smart guy, but you seemed nice. I was just hoping I could leave here knowing I made a friend. Despite relaying bad news, though I didn't want the night to end entirely on a sour note, so I hope the view makes up for it." Farkle explains, and I immediately feel bad.

Half the night I kept thinking he had other motives, even thinking he was planning to kill me for whatever reason, which was foolishly absurd. Instead, all Farkle wanted was a friendly face to talk to. I feel like an idiot.

"I'm sorry, Farkle… and you do," I whisper, tearing up. I'm not a mean person, but tonight, I felt like such a brat, and Farkle didn't deserve that. " _You have a friend in me_."

A wide grin slowly appears on Farkle's face. I'm sure that's the best thing he's heard all day. "Thanks, Maya. I'm glad."

.::.

I vigorously wipe my tears away as I stumble through the doors of the hospital. I didn't want to go home yet, so I asked Farkle to bring me here. I won't ever see him again after this since he's apparently catching a flight to somewhere else later today, but I'm glad he got to leave with exactly what he wanted—a friend.

I think it's about four o'clock in the morning by now, but I don't really care. I needed someone to talk to. I give the lady at the front desk my name, explaining to her that I'm a volunteer here, and she reluctantly allows me to go upstairs. It's not like I'm wearing any scrubs or have my name badge on me, so I understood her slight hesitance, but luckily things didn't have to get complicated.

After riding the elevator up to the appropriate floor, I'm practically sprinting down the hallways as I search for Joshua Matthews' room. He's probably asleep right now, but honestly that wasn't of any concern to me. Once I arrive in front of his door, I take one long deep breath before slowly barging my way inside, while thinking to myself that I'll probably lose my volunteer privileges after this.

I can hear the television playing in the background, while getting close enough to peek behind the curtain. Albeit, the second my eyes catch a glimpse of him, I'm instantly crying again.

Joshua turns his head as he acknowledges my presence, and he looks breathless as we stare at one another. Momentarily, he looks confused, but it doesn't take long before an enthusiastic smile is plastered along his lips. I'm sure he's wondering what I'm doing here at this time, but is too excited about seeing me to even question it.

"Maya…"

"I thought you might like some company," I mumble, quietly, and it takes me a minute to realize he's talking. My heartbeat quickens at the sound of his powerful, masculine voice, and I gradually walk over to his bedside. Meanwhile, his eyes never leave sight of me. "Remember when I promised to listen to you when you got better? Well, I hope now is okay because I'd really love for someone to talk to, too." I say, smiling but crying simultaneously.

Joshua notices my upset demeanor, and promptly looks at me with remorse. "What's wrong? Maya? Are you okay?"

He's asking me a million and one questions at a time, but I don't answer him as I simply climb into the bed next to him. I lay back against the pillow, folding my hands on top of my stomach, and stare upward as my eyes frantically scan the ceiling. Joshua eventually lays back beside me, and it's a few minutes until either one of us says anything.

"Maya…"

"I failed the audition," I blurt, numb as I have a brief flashback to my performance, and then receiving the unfortunate news from Farkle.

Joshua lifts his head up to gaze down at my face, but my eyes don't look away from the ceiling. "Audition?" he asks, and my insides churn at the thought that he might not remember what we talked about. I finally look at him, and seeing as his face visibly shows him trying to remember. "You mean, the audition you were so happy about? The one where… you finally got to sing your song?"

I nod. My lips are tight as I continue to cry, feeling the tears streaming down my cheeks. "I guess I wasn't as good as I thought…" I say, my voice trembling.

Joshua sits up completely. "Don't say that, Maya. I may not have seen your performance, but I have no doubt in my mind that you were phenomenal," he assures me, and it's taking everything I have in me to believe him. "I listen to your voice every time you sing to me, and it's amazing. Just because you lost some silly statewide audition doesn't mean you're not great or should stop singing."

"It just hurts, Joshua…" I reply, covering my eyes, and crying harder. I can then sense his body cringing, and I peek at him from behind my fingers. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I mean… you can just call me, Josh." he says, and I don't argue with him. If that's what he wants, then I will do as he pleases.

"Okay… Josh it is then," I say, and he smiles. We then lay back down, staring at the ceiling, and after a few minutes, Josh talks again.

"I want to hear you sing," he confesses. "I want you to keep singing, Maya."

He's being so mellow and honest that the thought of hurting him feels a lot worse than the pain of not getting accepted. I take a deep breath, and nod my head as I wipe the tears away from my face. "Fine. If that's what you want, then I will."

"Good." Josh smiles, and I bite my lip. "Although, is there a reason you didn't go to Evan about this instead of me?" he questions, and it's obvious that he's finally wondering why I'm at the hospital, crying my eyes out, and not taking my problems to my boyfriend.

I sigh. "Are you hurting right now, Josh," I ask, and he reluctantly nods his head. "Well, I figured bringing your pain and sorrow to someone, who's also feeling it too is more genuine. We both want to make the other feel better, and I can honestly say that being here in this hospital room with you was a lot more helpful than if I would've went to Evan's house." I admit, and Josh turns his head, staring at my profile.

Eventually I do the same, and just like before our lips are mere centimeters apart. Josh is once again gazing back and forth between my eyes and my lips, and I can't deny the fact that I'm doing the same. Regardless, I purse mine together before sitting back up on the bed. I look back at Josh sternly. "Are you ready to be honest with yourself now?" I say, and Josh's eyebrows furrow as he sits up as well.

His expression is curious and intense as we look at one another. "What? What do you mean?"

"Something tells me you're not, who you keep trying to portray yourself as." I proclaim, and Josh nervously diverts his gaze. "I don't know what got you into drugs, but you're not an addict. You _can_ get better. You just have to believe that you will."

"Easy for you to say," Josh murmurs, irritably, and I swiftly grab his hand. I firmly hold it in mine, seeing as he closely stares at our conjoined palms before looking back at me. I wanted him to take me seriously.

" _Yes_ , it is easy for me to say, Josh because it's not that hard to do! Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. You're a great guy, I can tell. Do you really want to continue to go the rest of your life pushing the people away that genuinely love you? You were fortunate enough to live through that accident. Shouldn't you be using this second chance to better yourself by truly doing something that makes you happy?"

"You don't know anything about me, Maya. You just don't understand—"

"Then _make_ me understand!" I exclaim, passionately, and Josh looks at me speechlessly. "Why don't you start with telling yourself that you're _not_ an addict, and that you _are_ a good person. Say it over and over again."

"Maya—"

"Don't fight me on this, Josh." I intervene, determined to make him see the bigger picture. The better way of life. "You won't be in this hospital forever, and the minute you're released, I want to know you're doing more than just making the same mistakes again."

Josh heavily breathes as he looks at me, and soon he's gazing down at our hands again. "I don't have anywhere to go…" He whispers, lowly, but I can hear him clearly.

I look at him curiously, and wishing he'd look at me too. "What do you mean?"

"My family wants nothing to do with me, while I'm on drugs. And even if I stop, I don't want to move back in with them. I dropped out of college, no means of returning, so without this hospital I'm basically homeless." Josh admits, and for a second I don't respond.

There's no way that's true.

"Why don't you want to live with your parents?"

"Because," he huffs, "I'm twenty-two years old. It's humiliating to think I still have to rely on them for everything. Besides, I won't be able to walk around that house without fear that they're judging me because of my choices."

"Well, Josh—"

"Just face it, Maya. I'm pathetic, and my life is going nowhere. I would've been better off dy—" I wouldn't allow him to finish that sentence. I couldn't.

Our faces are close with our foreheads pressed together, and lips gingerly grazing the other's.

We didn't kiss. But I'm sure one of us wanted to. I'm just not sure which.

Both of our breathing is steady as we remain close to one another, and it's not until several seconds later that either of us backs away. Disappointment then quickly fills the room, and my heart is pulsating so much that I think it may burst out of my chest. Meanwhile, my cheeks are hot and red, and so is Josh's.

I didn't kiss him. I wanted to… but I didn't. I didn't want to be a cheater, but Josh is making it harder and harder for me to control it. I know he'd kiss me without a second thought if I let him, but this isn't the way to do it. Regardless, I did get him to calm down, so that's a still win in my book.

I gradually intertwine our still conjoined hands, and then lifting his chin to look at me. "We'll figure something out, Josh… because you _will_ get better. You're not an addict, you hear me? So, if you're telling yourself that, then stop. I will you help through this if it's the last thing I do because I care about you. I care about you a lot," I say, earnestly, and Josh deeply searches my eyes. "Now say it: I am not an addict. I am a good person. And I will get better."

Josh softly licks his lips, nervous as I can feel his hand beginning to shake. "I am not an addict. I am a good person… And I _will_ get better."

I smile at him sweetly. He's finally starting to get it.

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW**_ , _it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

 **Recap:**

1\. Farkle tells Maya that she didn't make it pass the audition.

2\. Maya randomly visits Josh in the hospital, and confides in him.

3\. Josh and Maya almost kiss.

4\. Maya helps Josh to realize drugs are not the answer.

Now, a few of the comments I received last chapter, a lot of you were freaking out, lol, and it made me anxious to post this chapter, so I could explain a few things. Firstly, Markle is not happening, and it was _never_ happening. The scene I wrote for them in the previous chapter was just supposed to be Maya and Farkle being nice and overly friendly since they don't know each other. I'm sorry if a lot of my choice of words made it seem like something romantic was going to ensue, but come on guys. This is a **_Joshaya_** story, haha. Besides, I already have Evan as an obstacle, so adding someone else into the mix would've been unnecessary and absolutely too much.

Hopefully after reading this chapter, you guys can see that you jumped the gun too quickly. Farkle just wanted to talk to Maya about her audition. I apologize as well to any of you that may be confused about the story and where it's going, but that's the point. You're not always going to understand the course of a story when we're still in the middle of everything. I'm also aware that some if not most of you aren't a fan of Josh doing drugs, but that was mentioned in the very first chapter, so it kind of concerns me that last chapter may have set some of you off. However, every television show, book, or whatever has the main character(s) going through some type of problem or challenge to ultimately overcome. Yes, Josh is an addict, or at least thinks he is, but it's not like the story will conclude with him still as one. For example, during my other story _**Shallow Pleasure**_ , Josh's problem or challenge was a twisted, obsessive girlfriend that nearly killed him. In this story, however, it's drugs.

I hope I'm not coming off as harsh as I explain all of this because I am so grateful and appreciative for all you that are reading and reviewing. This story would be nothing without you guys, so thank you! I also hope you all enjoyed the scene between Josh and Maya, and I'll be anticipating any reviews I may get.

Until next chapter, :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Nine || _The Bet_.

Another day. Another headache. Claire's been hopelessly wandering the hospital in search of her mother, but constantly running into dead ends. She knows how ridiculously busy she tends to be, but is it so wrong to simply want to have lunch with your mother? Claire repeatedly asks around, stopping anybody she happens to pass, and demanding to know where her mother, Doctor Edwards is. Although, receiving the same straightforward answers countless times again—I haven't seen her—or—she's performing surgery right now. Claire desperately wants to pull her hair out at the clear sense of neglect she's feeling, but attempting to stay strong for everybody's sake.

Claire starts to give up, believing her mother doesn't want to be found, and proceeds to walk along the corridors with her head low. The last time her mother had shown her any ounce of attention was during the time she gave birth, and since then, it's like she doesn't have time for her daughter anymore. Either that, or doesn't care enough to want to spend time with her as being a doctor is apparently more important.

As Claire turns around a corner, her pace briefly starts to slow as a familiar voice soothingly drifts into her ears. She gradually lifts her head up, staring ahead of her, and nearly chokes as she glares at the woman breathlessly. She's wearing magenta scrubs with white crocs, and a long white coat stopping just pass her knees. Claire then hastily quickens her pace until she's in a full-blown sprint down the hall in the direction of her mother.

She smiles animatedly. "Mom!" Claire exclaims, and Doctor Edwards looks at her daughter curiously.

"Oh, hello Claire…" She says, nonchalantly. She'd been deep in discussion with the lady at the front desk until being rudely interrupted.

Claire eagerly grabs her mother's gloved hand, holding it in her own. "I've been looking for you. I have a little time, and I thought you and I could get lunch together," she pleas, happily. Claire sometimes has moments where she feels like she doesn't even know who her mother is, considering they don't spend any time together outside of the hospital.

Monica wearily glances down at she and her daughter's conjoined hands before narrowing her eyes back up at Claire. "Claire, don't you see that I'm busy?"

Claire scrunches her eyebrows together, her face distorting into a look of confusion. "You are? Well, I mean, I just thought…"

"Isn't there somewhere else you need to be right now?" Monica harshly questions. "If I'm busy, then I'm sure you are too. This hospital doesn't stay sufficient if lazy people like you aren't doing what they're supposed to."

"I know, but mom—"

"Leave me alone, Claire." Monica states, sternly. "If there's time, I'll talk to you later, but for now, I'm sure there's a patient somewhere that needs a nurse's help." Claire's mother replies, spitefully, and walking away in the opposite direction before Claire even has the chance to respond.

Claire watches her mother sashay away until the image of her is no longer visible. She can sense tears welling up in her eyes, and pivots around as she runs off in the direction she came from. As she's running with her head down, and tears blurring her vision, Claire doesn't notice the other person in her path as they painfully collide into one another.

Evan securely wraps his arms around her, steadying the two of them to prevent falling onto the floor, and looks at Claire questioningly. It wasn't as if this was the first time he's ran into her crying, and had a pretty good hunch as to what's apparently got her so flustered.

"Claire?"

Claire opens her eyes, gazing into Evan's, and immediately starts to frown. She stoutly pushes him off of her. "Get out of my away, Evan," she groans.

Evan looks at her speechlessly. "What are you talking about? You ran into _me_ ,"

"I said, get out of the way!" Claire hollers, her boisterous voice practically shaking the walls.

She tries to run pass him, but feels as he firmly grips her wrist before she's entirely out of reach. Evan struggles to pull her back into him. "Claire, what is your problem?"

"What _isn't_ my problem?" Claire bellows, still trying to free herself of Evan's restraints. "Can you let me go, dammit!"

"Not until you talk to me—" Evan says, angering Claire more by the second. She then tightly clenches her jaw, aiming her eyes down, and viciously kicks Evan in the leg. He instinctively let's go due to the pain, bending over to cradle the sore spot, and looks at Claire disbelievingly. "What the hell, Claire?"

She stands with her fists clenched by her sides. "Why don't you go talk to your girlfriend, and leave me alone. Besides, _she's_ the one you need to be worried about." Claire grumbles, and quietly walks away from Evan to wallow in his pain alone.

Time seems to slow down as she starts to calm down after the heart wrenching run in with her mother. Claire eventually takes a deep breath, stopping to recollect her thoughts, but soon grows curious as a pair of voices and their conservation suddenly sparks her interest. She wipes her eyes of any last lingering teardrops, and straightens up before ambling in the direction of where the voices are coming from. Claire continues to walk until she's standing in the doorway of patient Joshua Matthews' hospital room, and sees two girls standing in the middle of the room with confused looks on their faces.

They both are brunettes with long hair that flows pass their shoulders, and Claire wickedly smirks as she catches wind of what they're talking about. She comfortably leans against the doorframe with her arms crossed since they haven't noticed her presence yet.

"I don't understand. He should be in here."

"Are you sure they're not running any tests on him or something?"

"No. He doesn't need to have anymore test taken on him. Dr. Warner told us he was here, so where is he?"

Riley looks at the empty bed worriedly, while Jasmine appears agitated as she stands with her hands on her hips. She groans, "I bet you that blonde nurse has him."

"Who?" Riley asks, skeptically, and Jasmine angrily starts to pace.

"The nurse. She's blonde, has blue eyes, and apparently, her and Josh are really close."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because," Jasmine groans. She still couldn't get over how strongly Josh cried for the nurse after mistakenly getting hurt the last time she visited him. "it's just a hunch…" Jasmine responds, opting to keep her thoughts to herself.

Meanwhile, Riley continues to look at Jasmine nervously. She agreed to follow Jasmine to the hospital after she pleaded with her to come, claiming she wouldn't be able to face Josh again unless she had. Riley knew his parents were refusing to see him, but she wasn't a stubborn person. She loves her uncle, and only wishes for him to get better. She hasn't seen him since the time he was still in college, and hoping he'll be just as happy to see her as she'll be to see him.

Suddenly Jasmine shouts, anxiously combing her fingers through her hair. "Ugh, I just don't get it! I swear, there's something not right about that girl. What kind of volunteer is she, anyway?"

"Funny you'd ask that," Claire intervenes, smiling devilishly, and startling Riley and Jasmine as they whip their heads in her direction. Claire folds her arms, and stares at the girls expectantly. "I tend to ask myself the same question,"

"Who are you?" Riley asks, innocently.

Claire plants a hand over her chest, gesturing to herself. "Oh, me? I'm apart of the staff at this hospital. My mother is the top surgeon here, and I just happened to be walking by when I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."

"So, in other words, you were eavesdropping?" Jasmine questions, discreetly, and Claire playfully shrugs.

"Call it what you may," she says, "but lemme just say that I'm on your side."

Jasmine cocks an eyebrow suspiciously. "What are you talking about?" she challenges, crossing her arms, and doubtfully staring Claire up and down.

"I can't stand Maya, either. One flick of that blonde hair, and a flutter of those eyelashes, and she's got guys kneeling to her left and right."

"Aren't you being a little mellow-dramatic?" Riley asks, incredulously. "She can't be all that bad."

Claire scoffs and chuckles as she looks at the brunette pitifully. "Well, that doesn't surprise me. You look like the type that always sees the good in people; to defend a person for their flaws and faults even if they don't deserve it,"

"It just sounds like a case of jealousy," Riley responds, and Claire instantly cringes. Elsewhere, Jasmine tightly purses her lips, keeping quiet. "I may not know this Maya girl you two are talking about, but I'm sure she's a wonderful person." Riley smiles, sweetly.

Claire gags. "Oh, yeah? And why is that?"

"Because anybody giving their time and energy to a hospital with sickly patients has to have a heart of gold." Riley says, and Claire awkwardly twists her lips. She suddenly feels like she's under a microscope—naked and exposed.

Jasmine frantically waves her hands in the air, dismissing the conversation. "We're getting off track. Josh is missing, and I'm certain that the two of them are together."

"I'll bet you fifty bucks that they are," Claire says, and Riley stares between the two girls curiously.

She then folds her arms behind her back, standing confidently. "I'm sure Maya isn't as bad as you two are making it seem, and if those two _are_ together, then I'm positive that Josh is safe."

" _It's a bet_." Claire and Jasmine say at the same time, and smiling at each other cunningly.

It was officially two against one.

.::.

I couldn't help the smile that etched across my face the more time we spent together. No other nurse treats me the way she does, with so much love and compassion, and I've practically gone insane with how much I want to be with her.

Maya's smile is infectious as she occasionally bites her lower lip to hide how large her grin truly is, and it makes my heart skip a beat every single time. She graciously pushes me around the hospital from a wheelchair, showing me different sections and how it functions, and it's honestly the most fun I've had since being admitted into this place.

She slows the wheelchair as we approach a set of wide double doors, and Maya pushes a button on the side of the wall, opening them automatically. Once we're through, I notice we're in the infant department where babies are incubated. We stop in front of a particular room, and peek inside from the hallway as the door is already open. Inside is a couple, mom and dad, as they look at their newborn child in awe. The love in their eyes is genuine and heartwarming as the woman still appears in her hospital gown, admiring the sight of her baby, and intimately holding her partner's hand. They sweetly smile at one another, and it's clear how overjoyed they are about being parents.

I sense Maya leaning down toward my ear, her voice low as I can hear her smiling. "I sometimes help with the delivery process," she whispers, and I listen to her intently. "it's really beautiful, Josh. When a mother looks at her baby for the first time after nine long, exhausting months, but sees it was all worth it in the end to finally be able to hold her child in her arms."

I turn my head to stare at Maya, our faces close, and I'm staring at her plump lips again. I just can't help myself. "Is this what you imagine for yourself someday…" I ask, delicately.

Maya's cheeks instantly blush, and she chuckles nervously. "Well, I mean, it's kind of a scary thought. Being a mother and all. Of course, you want to be the best mom you can be, but there's so many important decisions that goes into raising a child. I don't think I would be able to handle it without fear that I did something wrong," Maya explains, candidly, and she's insane.

If I'm somehow lucky enough to be a father and it just happens to be for a child Maya and I created together, I would never leave her to feel lost or incompetent. We'd get through it together or not at all. "You're being too hard on yourself,"

"Maybe so, but it's too soon for me to start thinking about something like starting a family, anyway." Maya replies, and stands upright again as she continues to guide me through the hospital; our faces no longer inches apart.

She continues with the tour for about another thirty minutes—it's a really enormous hospital—and finally concludes with taking me back to the rehabilitation room. I practice more on my walking, using bars on either side of me to help keep my balance, while Maya is in front of me, carefully walking backwards.

It almost feels like a game as the objective is for me to reach the end of the bars where I can then claim my prize—Maya. She's my sole motivation as I steadily walk forward, and the minute we're at the end, I notice her smiling widely at me. She's exuding countless emotions: excitement, happiness, adulation, and I can't take it anymore.

I extend my arm out as far its willing to go, and fortunately grab a hold of her hand. I gently pull her close to me as we're now standing close enough to keep even a thin magazine in between us, and the look in her eyes as she gazes up at me is curious. Her eyes intensely search mine, wondering what my next move is, while also not pushing me away.

My eyes don't focus anywhere else but her lips, and before I realize it, I'm slowly moving in.

 _This is it. We're really going to do this._

Although, just as I'm starting to close my eyes, I feel a hand covering my mouth. I immediately widen them back open, and seeing as Maya is slyly smirking at me. She slowly shakes her head. "Don't do this to me, Josh…" she murmurs, and my heart flutters.

 _Is she asking me not to tempt her?_

Maya gradually removes her hand away from my mouth, caressing my cheek instead. "You're going to get me in trouble,"

"I can live with that." I reply, smirking as I wink, and Maya gently jabs my chest. I'm not sure whether she was referring to Evan or getting in trouble with the other staff in the room that's probably watching us right now, but I didn't care either way.

I want to kiss Maya. I _needed_ to kiss Maya. I can't handle being teased anymore as whoever invented the game of flirtation is no friend of mine.

Maya's hand eventually drops from my face, and she takes a step back. _To hell with all these damn boundaries already_. "C'mon, I'm hungry, and I'm sure you are too." I couldn't argue with that. "And I got the perfect place for us to go," she assures me with a grin, and walks me back over to my wheelchair.

I don't know what she has planned, but I can't control how much my body is trembling just from the thought of it. I think it's also safe to say, that Maya would not do this for any other patient here. I know her heart is massive, but I feel like I'm a special case. She has to have feelings for me outside of all this. She has to. And if things go my way, Evan will merely be a distant memory.

We mind our own business as Maya rolls me to where I realize is the cafeteria back on the other side of the hospital, closer to the route of my room, and she stops just short of a food counter. She walks in front of me and bends down, so we're eye level. "Wait, here. I'm going to snag us some free sandwiches." Maya says, and I'm truthfully turned on by how mysterious she's being.

I watch as she approaches the counter, and smiles friendly as she talks to the middle-aged guy on the other side. I try to listen to what they're saying.

"Hey, there you are, Tink," the guy says, cheerfully, and Maya's cheeks are crimson as she's unable to hide her blush. I assume 'Tink' is short for _Tinker Bell_ , who Maya does kind of resemble with the way she styles her blonde hair up into a bun. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey, Matt. Is it possible you can hook me and my friend up with a few Italian sandwiches? I've been taking him around the hospital since he's been cooped up in his room for several weeks now, and we're both getting kind of hungry."

"For you, Maya? Of course," the guy replies, and passes Maya two perfectly paper-wrapped sandwiches. "Y dile a tu amigo, estoy enraizando por él."

"Gracias, Matt." Maya responds, clearly understanding the guy's Spanish, and saunters back over to me with the sandwiches; one in each hand. She wheels me out of the cafeteria, and I can't help wondering the last thing that the guy said to her.

I part my lips, hesitant to ask her. "Maya,"

"Hmm?" she hums.

"How come that guy just willingly gave us these sandwiches, and… what was it he said to you in Spanish?"

"Oh, that's just Matt. He's like in his early forties, and has been working at this hospital for like a decade. We typically talk during my lunch breaks whenever I can't spend it with Evan, and he's really nice. He's one of the friendliest people at this hospital, and occasionally pays for my lunch. He's like the cool uncle you never thought existed," Maya says, and it doesn't surprise me at all that there are people willing to do favors like that for her, considering all she does is help people. "Oh, and what he said was: _And tell your friend, I'm rooting for him_."

Well, that makes me feel good.

I'm holding the sandwiches in my lap as I notice us going through some automatic doors that lead to the outside. I haven't been in the fresh air since being placed in the hospital, and I've been dying to feel the wind in my hair again. It's almost like Maya was reading my mind.

The courtyard is quiet and serene. The area is littered with evergreen trees, bushes, and patches of flowers. It's apparently Spring, and I didn't even know until now. Crazy how being high most days followed by a car accident, and then being in a coma completely makes you lose track of everything.

Maya picks a spot for us to rest, and helps me stand up out of the wheelchair. She lightly lowers me down onto a bench, and grabbing a blanket that had been tucked away in a pouch underneath the wheelchair. She subsequently sits down beside me, wrapping the blanket around us, shielding our skin from the slight chill in the air, and I hand her one of the sandwiches.

We sit together in blissful silence as we eat, and I sneak glances at her every so often.

 _Is it wrong to think of this as a date?_

Maya briefly turns her head to look at me, still chewing a bite of her sandwich, and immediately starts to laugh at me. I look at her perplexed as I ponder what's got her so giggly and tickled. Despite how cute her laugh is, I wanted to know the cause of it.

She reaches her hand toward my mouth. "I guess I forgot to get napkins… You have a little mayo on your face," Maya proclaims, softly wiping it away, and then licking it off of her thumb, while staring at me simultaneously.

I see how it is now. Well, two can play at this game.

"Yeah, well, I see I'm not the only one with something on their lips." I say, smoothly.

Maya quickly moves a hand up to her mouth, attempting to wipe away at nothing. "You're kidding," she says, "Where? What is it?" she asks, frantically, but I don't respond.

Instead, slowly raising a hand up to her face, and tenderly pulling her close by the chin, while deeply looking into her eyes.

I didn't want to think about it this time.

My lips softly envelope hers as I close my eyes, and drown in the moment. If I hesitate for even a second, then the opportunity to kiss Maya will continue to be nothing more than a dream rather than reality.

She's stiff as I can sense how stunned and nervous she is, but eventually gives in, and slowly kisses me back.

I would've been a fool to let this afternoon between us end without planting one on her, and I regret nothing at all. Besides, she knew what she was doing when she set all of this up. She's loving this kiss between us right now, and it's got me feeling like a little boy in a candy store.

In this moment right now, Maya isn't thinking about Evan. She's not thinking about her failed audition, or anything else that could possibly distract her from this kiss with me.

I don't know how long it takes until we finally break away from each other, and I wish it didn't have to stop. Our foreheads are touching as I notice Maya smiling, while biting her lip. And of course, I'm smiling too.

 _Is it too soon to kiss her again?_

We continue to eat our sandwiches until there's nothing left except a few stray crumbs. Maya briefly gets up to throw the leftover paper away in a nearby trash can, and I'm anxious to have her back next to me during the few seconds she's away. We eventually cuddle back on the bench, blanket wrapped tightly around our shoulders, and I feel as Maya softly reaches for my hand. My heart recklessly palpitates inside my chest as our fingers interlock, and I'm even more sure now that the constant signs of affection aren't merely just sympathy or pity.

Maya likes me too, it's the undeniable truth.

Maya lightly leans her head down on my shoulders, strands of her blonde hair tickling some of the exposed skin on my neck, and I'm itching to have this passionate moment between us continue. I whisper her name skittishly. "Maya…"

"Yes, Josh?" she answers, instantly, and lifting her head up high enough off of my shoulder to look at me.

I'm breathless for minute as I'm lost in her blue eyes, but soon in a daze as she swiftly leans closer to peck my lips. It's entirely unexpected, but definitely not unwanted. I close my eyes again like previously, sinking into the kiss, and honestly forgetting what it was I wanted to ask her. Although, this second kiss might've answered it.

I then mumble between the kiss, admitting that I like the feel of her lips, and Maya briefly parts away from me as she can't contain her laughter. Nevertheless, I quickly pull her back in, refusing to let her escape. As the world proceeds to revolve around us, nothing else mattering except each other, we're eventually startled by the sudden sound of a familiar voice.

Maya and I both turn our heads, glancing behind us, and my eyes are wide as I immediately notice Jasmine and my niece, Riley standing just a few feet away from us. Meanwhile, that Claire chick is smiling satisfyingly, but her gaze is only on Maya.

I can feel Maya rapidly standing up from the bench, and the look in her eyes is pure horror as she glares at all three girls speechlessly.

"Well, look who it is… Still thinks she's a saint now?" Claire says, tauntingly, and I silently roll my eyes and groan.

Just when things were finally starting to get good.

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

You guys asked for it, and you got it. I originally didn't plan to have a kiss happen when I first thought of the outline for this chapter, but I think it turned out well. Although, of course, you guys will be the judge of that.

 **Recap:**

1\. Claire has a falling out with her mother.

2\. Riley is introduced, and visits Josh in the hospital along with Jasmine.

3\. Josh and Maya finally share a kiss. Well, a _few_ kisses.

4\. Claire catches Maya in the act of cheating on Evan, which will continue in Chapter Ten, and is already halfway complete at this point.

Considering this is the most intimacy I have written for Joshaya so far, I would _love it_ if I could possibly receive at least **5+ reviews**. I really want to hear from the group of you that don't typically comment too often. I plan to have Chapter Ten posted by Friday, so enjoy this chapter until then.

I don't really know when I'll be ready to start concluding this story, or whether it'll be longer or shorter than _**Shallow Pleasure**_. Regardless, I'll try my best to continue making Joshaya stories for any of you that may be interested.

Thanks to everyone that read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation!


	10. Chapter 10

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Ten || _Victorious_.

"Care to explain?" Claire says, dauntingly with a heinous grin blatantly visible on her lips. She calmly steps closer to me, arms folded over her chest, and all too satisfied to watch my apparent demise. Meanwhile, clearly the ringleader of this unfortunate intervention as the other girls merely look on at the wretched scene happening in front of them; their interruption completely ruining the mood, despite not knowing how much they've got to witness at all.

My glare is intense as I watch Claire walk closer. I move forward, standing behind the bench, and blocking off any view Josh may have. It almost feels like a gesture of protection, to keep Claire away from him as I was not going to let her drag him down with me.

Claire stops once she's standing directly in front of me, an arm's length away, and it's a smart move on her part as my blood is currently boiling. There's no guarantee that no fists will be thrown, but I'll try to keep the situation at bay for as long as I'm possibly willing.

Her stare is penetrating, eyes practically shooting daggers as we look spitefully at one another, and the more time I find myself standing here with her, the more I want to wipe that smug smile off her face. She's trying to catch me in an act, and maybe she has. Claire will stop at nothing to drive a wedge between me and Evan, and if this is the game she wants to play, then I'm up for the challenge. If it's a fight she wants, then I'll gladly give her one.

My hands are down by my sides, fists tightly clenched. "What do you want, Claire?" I finally say, and she briefly gazes back at the two brunettes behind her.

Her stare eventually meets back with mine, and her previously canny smirk is no longer present. I'm both happy and suspicious all at the same time as the look in her eyes is now one of disgust. "I hope you're ashamed of yourself right now because _that_ right there," Claire says, gesturing behind me as she points at Josh, and I don't have the willpower to gaze back at him. I know he has to be staring at me right now, angry and helpless as he's too weak to stand by me when I need him the most, and Claire is truly testing my limits at this point. "that's the kind of thing that will get you terminated." She finishes.

My stomach churns a little, but I continue to look at Claire nonchalantly. I don't want to display any sign of fear, giving her the satisfaction. I fold my arms, standing my ground. "What are you trying to prove here, Claire? Besides, you don't even like it here, so who's really going to believe anything you say? Admit it, I'm an asset to this hospital, and there's nothing you can do that will change that."

"Oh, but on the contrary you dim-witted little blonde," Claire says, raising a finger, and smirking at me cunningly. "You may be helpful around here and selfless, but I've been watching you for a while, hoping for a moment quite like this one to finally have something against you, and there's no way you'll be allowed back in this hospital after I'm through with you unless it's a life or death situation." Claire assures me, and I can't deny how utterly nervous I am right now.

If she's insinuating what I think, then this may be the end for me.

I purse my lips anxiously, seeing as Claire steps closer to whisper in my ear, so that only I can hear her. "Did you have fun this morning?" she asks, rhetorically, and my eyes widen. "Volunteers don't usually come to the hospital at four o'clock in the morning, especially to visit a patient they're supposed to be helping to treat." Claire proclaims, and my heart promptly plummets to the pit of stomach. I hadn't even noticed Claire during my trek up to Josh's room, although I was teary eyed and distraught. It also doesn't surprise me that _she_ was at the hospital at that time too, considering her mother practically runs the place, and I suddenly feel foolish. Why couldn't I have been more careful with avoiding her?

I start to stutter uncontrollably, flustered and speechless. "Claire, I… I—"

"Save it, Dorothy," Claire spits, silencing me. She's talking loud enough again for everybody to hear her now. "You're an absolute disgrace, and somebody needs to say it. Fortunately, that'll be me." Claire smiles, and my feet literally seem to be frozen in place as I can't feel anything from the waist down. Just when I thought I successfully managed to share an early morning with Josh, and then walk back into the hospital later again without anyone confronting me about it. Albeit, I can't decide whether I regret it or not.

Afterwards, one of the brunettes, who I have never seen at the hospital before hastily steps forward, and the look in her expressive brown eyes is empathetic. "Hey, now! Leave her alone, okay? She doesn't deserve to have someone calling her a disgrace, especially in front of all these people." The girl pleas, and it shocks me to see her defending me when we don't even know each other. I was sure until now that people like that no longer existed.

Elsewhere, I'm certain that I can hear Josh mumble something from behind me, and it sounds like he's absently whispering a name.

Riley? Is that who she is?

Claire scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Doesn't she? What kind of volunteer removes a patient from their room without permission, and then is caught kissing them?"

"Yeah, but—"

Claire quickly raises a hand, forcibly silencing Riley. "But nothing. I will not stand around for another second, and let this girl make a mockery of this hospital. There's a lot at stake here, and keeping her around is not worth ruining the hospital's or my mom's reputation. This facility has come a long way, and I'll be damned if I just let this slide."

"Claire, you don't have to do this." The other girl says, who I believe is Josh's friend. She's been the only one constantly coming to see him in the hospital, and her commitment soon has me suspicious of her true intentions.

"What is the matter with all of you?" Claire exclaims, bitterly. "She kissed a patient, and brought him out of his room! How is he expected to recover properly if she has him out here in the open where anything can happen or go wrong, and sitting on this hard ass bench, no less."

"I kissed _her_ ," a voice suddenly says, and it takes me a minute to realize that it's Josh. My cheeks instantly flush as my eyes widen, and I glance over my shoulder at him. He's been quiet this entire time, but I assume not being able to withstand Claire's vicious accusations against me any longer.

I can't help but smile, although it's a faint one.

All is momentarily silent as we all stare at Josh, watching as he attempts to stand up, and is using the back of the bench to steady himself. " _I'm_ the one that initiated the kiss." Josh says, repeating himself, and butterflies are in my stomach as I think back to our sensual kiss together just moments prior to all of the commotion.

Claire awkwardly twists her lips. "Yeah, well… that's beside the point."

"How?" Josh asks, irritably; his eyebrows scrunched as he looks at Claire in agitation.

"Because it is! If she wants to be _that_ girl that cheats on her boyfriend, then be my guest. Regardless, Evan doesn't deserve to suffer for this. Strangely enough, he loves you maybe more than he loves himself, and here you are, toying with his feelings, and you don't even seem to care."

"I do care!"

"Bullshit!" Claire shouts, and the fire in her eyes is rapid as she stares at me with the utmost hate I've ever known her to possess.

"Okay, stop it! Leave her alone, Claire! That's enough!" Josh yells, and surprisingly maneuvering himself by me as he stands in between Claire and I to protect me.

I guess all the rehab we've been doing together is starting to pay off.

I can't see Josh's face right now, but judging by how cowardly Claire appears, he must be intimidating. "I don't know what your reasons are for hating Maya so badly because she didn't do anything to you."

"Like you would know," Claire snarls.

I then notice as Josh's shoulders broaden. It's obviously taking a lot out of him to be standing like this, while so immensely irate, and all because I got weak, melting to his touch. This all could've been avoided if I just kept refusing him.

My throat is dry, and I feel like I want to cry. Although, not because Claire is yelling at me, while simultaneously making a fool out of herself, but because I plainly see how hurt Josh is right now. He won't be able to keep this up for much longer. Nevertheless, aimlessly finds my hand without looking down, and gently holds it for support. Our fingers are lightly interlaced with one another's, and my lips are ajar as I look up at the back of Josh's head. His brown, unruly hair is a mess on his head, and his ears appear red, signifying his tinted cheeks. He knows he needs to sit down as soon as possible, but is willing to fight through the pain to make sure Claire doesn't upset me any further.

"Enlighten me then. Why _do_ you dislike Maya so much?" Josh asks, and Claire folds her arms, while shifting her weight from one leg to the next.

"I don't have to explain myself to anyone, especially to a drug addict, who'd rather risk losing his life than anything else." Claire responds, and gasps are immediately heard from everybody standing around all except from Josh. I try to move a little in hopes of seeing his reaction, and soon feeling as he squeezes my hand. I couldn't believe Claire would say something like that, and she says _I'm_ a disgrace? Well, I might've kissed a patient which may be considered inappropriate but was entirely consensual, and at least I didn't drag one of them through the mud.

Claire then looks back as she feels a slight tug on her arm. Riley is staring at her, her eyes full of anguish and disbelief. "How could you say something like that?" she murmurs, a hardy edge to her voice in contrast to the usual sweet tone I heard earlier.

I instinctively look back at Josh as he starts to talk. "Don't worry about it, Riley. She isn't wrong," he says, and I quietly continue to stare at him, curious. "I _am_ a drug addict, who cares more about being high and risking their life. Or at least I was…" Josh whispers, and gradually turning around to face me; our hands now firmly intertwined.

He's staring down at me longingly, and I'm temporarily unable to breath. Curse that tender look in his blue eyes that has me weak in the knees every single time.

Josh eventually grabs my other hand, and I can sense a kiss coming right here in front of everybody. I try to mentally prepare myself for it, but it's only a false alarm. He smiles. "Right? I'm _not_ a drug addict. I'm a good person." Josh recites, and I can sense a smile slowly forming on my lips.

I bashfully nod my head in response. "Right, Josh…" I reply, and he briefly bends down to kiss my forehead. It happened so quickly that I'm not sure anybody could see it with his back facing them, but I didn't care either way.

Josh then turns back around, facing the other girls. "Come here, Riley," he says, releasing my hand to open his arms, and she doesn't waste any time running over to hug him. Her head his pressed to his shoulder, and I can hear as Josh whispers to her. "Thanks for coming to see me,"

"I'm only sorry I didn't sooner," she says, and our eyes meet. We hold our gaze for several seconds, and soon I see the corners of her mouth rising. "Thank you." Riley mouths to me. I quietly smile and nod; it almost feeling like I have her blessing or something.

Claire groans. "Well, I don't care what you all think. I'm telling my mom about you Maya, so you might as well not even show up tomorrow. Your days volunteering at this hospital are _over_."

Josh and Riley's hug quickly subsides as everybody looks at Claire. The smug smile is back on her face, but I can't even concentrate and pretend to care as I see Evan standing at the door of the hospital where me and Josh came out of. His hands are in his pockets as he stands nonchalantly, and his expression is completely unreadable. How long has he been standing there? What did he see, what did he hear?

When our eyes finally lock, it almost feels like I'm incapable of looking away until I see him starting to leave. Before I know it, I'm hurriedly running after him, and I don't stop even at the sound of Josh frantically calling my name.

I don't regret what happened between me and Josh, or whatever it is we have with one another, but if this is the end of Evan and I, then he at least deserves an explanation.

I owe him that much, right?

.::.

Evan walks with his head down low, and thoughts boggled as he leaves the entrance of the courtyard. His hands are down in the depths of his pockets, while his heart feels like it's shrinking with each step he takes. After everything he'd just heard, he didn't know what he was more disappointed about—the fact that Maya has apparently moved on, or the fact that he had to find out this way. By the time he noticed everyone outside, he had been too late to witness anything. Evan didn't actually see the alleged kiss, but heard when Claire talked about it, and Maya didn't try to deny it happening.

He knows he's going to have to face Maya sooner or later, and talk to her about it, although he wouldn't be ready for it. He probably wouldn't ever be ready. Evan also didn't understand how Claire could stand around arguing with Maya when they had worked to do. Claire might've been trying to protect him, but he didn't need saving; he's a big boy. Besides, this wasn't his first rodeo. He could handle another breakup even if it's with Maya.

Evan's pace is as slow as a turtle's, allowing Maya the perfect opportunity to catch up with him. She quickly jogs up from behind him, grabbing his wrist, and continuing to run as she pulls him along after her. Evan doesn't argue or say a word as he willingly follows Maya to wherever she's taking them. Although, the more time they spend running, the sooner he realizes where they're going. They close in on one of the hospital's gift shops, and Maya briefly smiles at the working cashier to assure normalcy, and guides Evan over to a secluded corner of the store where they can talk privately. The shop is fairly empty, so the chance of eavesdroppers are unlikely.

Evan and Maya stand close as if they're stuck standing in a cramp storage closet, and Evan's eyes blatantly look everywhere else except at the petite blonde in front of him. However, Maya is staring at him straight on. She thought of staying silent, thinking Evan would have an earful for her, but he hasn't said anything since they got together.

Subtlety arises as she parts her lips, hopeless of something to say, but unfortunately falling short. There isn't anything she could possibly say to justify the dishonesty she's orchestrated. But still she tries. "Evan," she murmurs, barely above a whisper, attempting to look in his eyes, but he's making it extremely difficult. " _Say something_."

"What for," Evan replies, nonchalantly as he shrugs. Lines were distinctly drawn in the sand, and he and Maya were no longer on the same side. "It's okay. I'm fine. I don't care."

"Liar." Maya accuses, the tone in her voice serious. "You're too calm to be fine. Why don't you just do it already?"

"What do you want from me Maya? Do what?" Evan exclaims, and Maya leans herself up on her toes as she jabs a finger against his chest.

"Yell at me! I want you to be mad! Why aren't you shouting at me? You should be furious right now!"

"You're insane." Evan snarls, rolling his eyes. He doesn't see the purpose of flaunting any emotion when it's not going to change what she's done. "Just think of this as a victory."

Maya furrows her brows inquisitively. "A victory?" she repeats, confused and uncertain.

"He's a great guy, right? Isn't that what you said?" Evan proclaims, and Maya is silent as she frantically searches her brain, straining to understand what he's talking about. A lofty quietude surrounds them as the blonde proceeds to think, and Evan sighs exasperatedly. "I know what happened," he says.

Maya looks at him intensely, knees shaking and forehead sweating. "Wh—What are you…"

"Claire told me." Evan clarifies. "I didn't believe her at first until she showed me the video. I guess Joshua Matthews is just a better listener than I am." Evan shrugs, and Maya is speechless as her mouth appears agape.

It takes her a few seconds to piece everything together, and quickly realizing that Claire must've somehow secretly videotaped footage of her in Josh's room, and then using it as ammo to convince Evan. Albeit, if she truly wanted to take Maya down once and for all, she would need evidence.

Maya tightly purses her lips, guilty. "I'm sor—"

"Stop. The last thing I want from you is an apology." Evan intervenes. He wouldn't believe it, anyway. "Besides, I should've figured it out for myself the minute we started spending less and less time together. I mean, I thought the reason was because of Claire, but now I see it was really because of a patient."

"Claire _was_ the reason!" Maya shouts, and Evan carelessly glares at her. At this point, he didn't care what the reason was. "You and her have known each other longer, and after all this time I still don't know if you're ex-best friends, former lovers, or mortal enemies for no apparent reason. One minute it's like you can't stand to be in the same room together, and the next you're asking me to leave like you can't say anything to her in front of me. The doubt, the sneakiness, the uncertainty—I hated it, but continuing to ignore it because _I_ was always the one you came back to at the end of the day."

"Maya—"

"I went to Josh because he was there. When I wanted somebody to talk to or to listen or to laugh with, _he was there_. I know it could've literally been anybody, especially one that hasn't been in a coma, but even asleep was he still responsive. Countless times has he made an effort to show me he cares, despite the fact the he doesn't know me, and I fell hard for that. I notice everything. The lustful look in his eyes whenever I'm around. The redness in his cheeks whenever I touch him. The nervous way he smiles at me like he's afraid of doing something wrong. A five-year-old would be able see that he has feelings for me, and I can't deny how happy that makes me. Josh has this mindset that nobody in his life loves him, and that drugs are normal for numbing the pain of disappointing others. He feels safe with me, and the feeling is mutual. If Josh… if he…" Maya tapers, breathless after-so passionately relaying the devotion she has for Josh out loud, and Evan is silent.

His heart hurts after having to listen to the testimony of Maya's feelings for another guy, and can't remember a time she ever talked so graciously about him. "If he what?" he asks, dreading an answer, but also craving it.

He didn't want to be left in suspense for another second.

Maya takes a deep breath, a sharpness in her eyes as she stares at Evan pointedly. "If he wants to be with me after he's out of the hospital, then I will give him that," she confesses. "There's something about him that just keeps me interested. He pulls me back in every single time I try leaving, and I don't want to fight it anymore."

"Huh." Evan moans, and firmly tightening his jaw as he stares down at the floor with his hands in his pockets.

Maya then unravels her hair tie, allowing her golden locks to fall down her back, and running a hand through her hair to relieve the agonizing headache she feels surfacing. She shakes out her curls, and demands for Evan to look at her. He reluctantly raises his head. "I still don't agree with kissing him, while still with you. You probably don't believe me, and you don't have to. And I know you don't want to hear it, but I really am sorry." The blonde confesses, and Evan is once again wordless. He still doesn't believe Claire is the sole thing that drove the two of them apart, but it also doesn't look like Maya's mind can be swayed.

Evan gradually opens his arms, inviting her in. "Come here," he whispers, and Maya closes in on the space to embrace him.

She hides her face against his chest, sensing the tightness of Evan's hug. Maya stubbornly blinks back the few tears begging to fall, and slightly stiffens as Evan softly kisses the top of her head.

"I hope our time together wasn't all bad," he says, and Maya intently gazes up at him, while proceeding to keep her arms wrapped around his backside.

"Of course, not." Maya responds, truthfully, and a faint smile eases across Evan's lips but vanishing just within a few seconds.

He let's go of Maya, taking a step backward. "I, uh… I need to get back to work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. And I need to… take Josh back to his room." Maya mumbles, certain that Claire has probably already started guiding Josh back into the hospital, and Evan awkwardly purses his lips. He quietly nods.

It soon feels like eons until either one of them decide to leave, not necessarily wanting to be the first person to go. Evan eyeballs Maya attentively, formulating one final image of her as if it'll be the last time they ever see each other, and his heart ultimately breaking in half the minute she starts to walk away from him. He stares until she's completely out of the gift shop, no longer in sight. Evan leans his back against a nearby wall, sliding down to the floor with his arms on his knees, and hectically searches his brain for any sort of explanation.

He didn't fight hard enough for Maya to stay with him, ultimately freeing her to go walk into some other guy's arms.

The war had finally been won.

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

I had this chapter ready for a while now, despite how much I struggled with it, so I hope it didn't suck. Nonetheless, I was waiting until I accumulated more reviews, and now that I have, I could finally post it. I'm already done writing the chapters as this story _**will**_ conclude on Chapter Fourteen. I'm actually already writing a rough draft to my **_new potential Joshaya story_** , and if I have the first chapter complete by the time I post the final chapter of Written in the Scars and I like it, then that story will be published as well. Maybe even the same day.

I've also been debating about making a sequel, so Joshaya's relationship can be captured away from the hospital with a whole new setting, plot, and characters, but I don't know yet. I think I rather just start fresh again with my third Joshaya story. What do you guys think?

 **Recap:**

1\. Claire threatens to tattle on Maya.

2\. Josh tries to defend Maya.

3\. Maya declares her love for Josh.

4\. Evan and Maya officially breakup.

Thanks to everybody that read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation! (Just a couple more reviews, and I'll post Chapter Eleven)


	11. Chapter 11

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Eleven || _One Request_.

Something doesn't feel right. Suddenly everything feels off… wrong, and I already know what it is. It causes me to sigh, and I don't think I can last another minute of the blatant separation. The second she ran out of the courtyard, leaving me behind to chase after Evan, I felt a sense of emptiness. The kisses with her were indescribable, and I'm at a loss for words anytime I try to conjure up a genuine explanation for how amazing it was. I've dreamt of this, imagined it on countless occasions, and now that it's happened, it still doesn't feel real.

Maya never came back after running off, and I didn't see her for the rest of the day. Claire sounded pretty serious with her threat to get rid of Maya, and I'm sure she didn't waste a minute getting her in trouble. I might've wanted so badly to kiss her, but I would've held back at least a little while longer to prevent never seeing her again. Another nurse will now have to take her place, and it makes me mad at myself. I got weak, and now we're taking the fall together.

I slowly turn my head as I lie in bed, not really tired but exasperated. My eyes immediately catch a glimpse of Riley as she sleeps in the chair beside my bed, and a hospital blanket covering her body. She's been with me ever since the day before, permitted to stay the night, and her company truly a relaxing substitute for not being able to have Maya here with me.

A faint smile curls onto my lips as I watch her sleep, presuming her to be exhausted after staying up the entire night to talk and help me with whatever I might've needed. However, my liberating mood immediately subsiding the instant I notice someone coming into the room.

Jasmine's expression is solemn and defeated as she reluctantly creeps into the room, and I gradually sit up until I'm sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. I can see her staring at Riley, and I assure her that she's asleep. "If you're afraid to talk in front of her, don't be. She's always been a heavy sleeper," I smirk, and Jasmine stiffly nods her head.

She leaves the door open a crack before cautiously walking toward me, and I silently encourage her to sit down next to me. I know I haven't been particularly nice to her, considering she's always been finding time to come see me, and I owe her an apology.

Jasmine appears pale as she looks to be holding her breath, and it's clear how terrified she is to be near me. I don't blame her. My mind's still a little fuzzy about what really happened between us, but I'm certain I remember yelling and swearing at her when she was only trying to help. Honestly, I would be scared of me, too.

Once she settles down next to me, neither of us are eager to talk to the other. From the corner of my eye I can see Jasmine nervously fiddling with her hands, and I briefly look up from her hands to her face. She refuses to look back at me, but I know she can sense me staring at her. I didn't mean to make her this uncomfortable around me, and now I don't know what to do to fix the damage.

Notably thirty more seconds seem to tick by, and Jasmine's voice is barely above a whisper as she finally starts to say something. "I, uh… I'm sorry about Maya."

I furrow my brows, incredulous. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you were on the same side as Claire with wanting to get rid of Maya. Unless I'm wrong, but I don't think you're as sorry as you want me to believe." I reply, and Jasmine is breathless. She might've tried to stop Claire's rampage when all seemed to be getting out of hand, but she was a little too late.

Jasmine purses her lips, looking away. "You don't remember, do you?" she asks without looking at me, and I don't know what she's talking about.

"What do you mean? Remember what?"

"The kiss," Jasmine whispers, her cheeks as red as a strawberry. "I did it, and you slowly woke up afterwards. You didn't talk, I don't think you could, but you never stopped looking at me."

As a silence sweeps around us, I'm trying to remember what kiss Jasmine is talking about, but the only one my mind is willing to visualize are the ones with Maya. I start to shake my head. "And then what?"

Jasmine's eyes briefly reconnect with mine, frantically searching, and I can see them beginning to water. "Uh, I… I think I said something about us needing to talk. I wanted us to talk about your… problem, and what solutions there are for helping you."

"No need." I declare, and Jasmine is stunned.

Her mouth moves, but no words are managing to escape. She then licks her lips, skepticism written all over her face. "I don't understand? Are you still saying you don't regret what happened?"

"I'm saying that your help isn't necessary," I say, bluntly. "I know now how idiotic I was being with letting the drugs take over me, but I'm quitting. I promise no more pot or weed of any kind. No more heroine, no more cocaine, no more. It's obvious that it was only helping to destroy me, and I can't be happy if all I'm doing with my days is getting high. That's not the kind of son, friend, or boyfriend I want to be."

Jasmine is quiet as if she's deciphering whether my words are genuine or not. "Well, I'm happy to hear that… but why the sudden change of heart?"

"Let's just say, I finally shut my mouth long enough to listen to everybody's pleas. Someone told me that there's more to life than doing drugs, and I want that person to be proud of me." I confess, but Jasmine's reaction is unreadable.

Her emotions are a whirlwind of confusion as one minute I'm seeing happiness and the next, I'm witnessing disappointment. She sniffles, and quickly wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Wow, that Maya sure is something. It sounds like she gave you the best medicine of all," Jasmine says, and I wait for her to elaborate. " _Love_. She loves you Josh, and who can blame her?"

"Jasmine—"

"And it's obvious you love her, too. She's younger than you, yet she understands you like nobody else. She was the one successful enough to get through to you. The one you listen to, and the one who's feelings and opinion you value most. When we walked in on the two of you kissing, I have to admit, I instantly hated her. I've constantly been by your side whereas she's only been around a few weeks. She made it seem effortless—the way she swooped in and stole your heart, while I've been trying to work up the courage for years now. Maya's gotten to do what I've been longing to, but apparently couldn't unless you were asleep. Riley's right, it is jealousy. I envy that she's the one you'd rather be with, the one you want to kiss, and I only wonder what it is I did wrong."

Jasmine's words cut though me like a knife, and I feel foolish to have not noticed her feelings before. Regardless, it still doesn't change things. Jasmine is amazing, no question, but everybody has a soulmate, and I don't feel like she's mine. Besides, dating your best friend rarely ever works out, and I don't want to jeopardize our friendship simply for an experiment. Jasmine is beautiful. She's smart, outgoing, sometimes funny, and occasionally annoying. I have no doubt she'll find the right one to be with, but it just won't be me even if Maya and I don't work out.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close, and she leans her head down. "It isn't anything you did wrong Jasmine, or anything you could've done right. We're friends. I love you as a friend, and I don't want to risk damaging that. I know I don't always show it, but I appreciate everything you do for me. When my family isn't there, I know you always are, and I'm always going to want you in my life. Maya may be the one I want to be with, but there's no guarantee we'll be together forever. As much as I want that, I can't tell the future. If she ever decides she no longer wants to be with me, you're going to be one I come crying to about it." I say, and Jasmine giggles.

I smile as she looks up at me. "You? Crying? Please. Joshua Matthews never cries."

"Hey, I can be emotional when I want, and with the way Maya's tugging at my heart strings, I'll be devastated if we never get together or fall apart."

"I'm sure that won't happen," Jasmine retorts, and I really hope she's right.

Now if only Maya were here with me.

Jasmine and I continue to sit together, quiet and comfortable. Riley is still asleep, snoring softly to herself, but I don't mind. Jasmine isn't saying much to me anymore, but not because she's upset with me. I think she's happy being here with me, and I feel the same way. Her company is soothing, especially since Maya can't be here with me instead all thanks to Claire. And as if on cue, the wicked witch of the West suddenly appears in the doorway.

Her expression is ruthless as she struts into the room with her arms folded, and Jasmine and I quickly pull apart. She stares at the both of us, suspicious. "They need to leave." Claire demands, referring to Riley and Jasmine.

I look up at her, agitated. "What for?"

"Does it matter? They've been here all night. It's time they go home."

"But we don't want to go home," Jasmine protests, and Claire rolls her eyes.

"I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here. Leave now, or I'm calling security."

"Why are you doing this?" I exclaim, rising to my feet, and Claire looks at me pitifully.

She smirks. "I'm just following orders. Your guests need to leave, and that's that."

I can sense Jasmine gazing at me, but my eyes never leave Claire's. It's almost like we're sharing a conversation telepathically, and I eventually realize I won't get any answers unless we're alone.

I look at Jasmine, encouraging her to go. "Just do it."

She's speechless, and I try to sympathize. There's still one more thing I need to figure out, and I can't do it with her in the room.

Jasmine tightens her lips, accepting, and takes Riley with her before vanishing into the hallway. Claire stares at the doorway until they're gone, and turns back to me curiously. I quietly walk pass her, and close the door to allow us absolute privacy. There's a prompt standstill between Claire and I as I wait for her confession, and she casually moves to plop down in the chair Riley previously sat. Her hands fold on top of her lap as she sits back, and her expression looks stern.

"What do you want?" she snaps. "If this is about Maya getting issued from the hospital, then you might as well get over it—"

"It's not about that." I bark, and Claire quirks an eyebrow. I decide to come right out with it. "Did you and Evan ever have a thing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Answer the question, Claire." I say, wearily. "Why else would you hate Maya so much?"

"You really think it's that simple?" Claire says, rhetorically, the look in her eyes deadly. "Yes, I liked Evan, or maybe still do, but my reasons are circumstantial."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Claire pauses. She sighs. "It means that he was there for me like Maya is for you."

I'm still not sure I get it, and it's clear that Claire notices my perplexity. She groans, lifting up from the chair, and walks over to the window. There's a temporary silence in the room as she looks below at the ground, and I don't dare say a word as this is the most Claire's ever been willing to share with me. "I didn't find Evan, _he found me_. We met all the way in back middle school, but I never acknowledged his existence until the day _it_ happened." Claire explains, a lot of empty holes still yet to be filled. "My mother and I, we're not particularly close. Never have been. Her life revolves around this hospital, and it usually leaves me feeling neglected. She hasn't genuinely spent time with me since I was a baby, and often times I find myself arguing with her about it, which always seems to end brutally for me. That's where Evan comes in," Claire moans, still talking to the window at her reflection, and by now I've moved from the floor to the bed.

Claire turns around to face me, leaning against the vents, and her countenance is entirely dull and nonchalant. "My mom isn't an abuser. She's never hit me unless I truly deserved it, but something I said during one of our fights really sent her over the edge. I remember going into school with a hoodie on my head, and a massive bruise on my face. I never cared to notice Evan, but apparently he was always watching me. He could tell something wasn't right. I'm sure everyone did, but he was the only one that showed interest. We used to share third period together, and in the middle of the lesson, I asked if I could go to the bathroom. Once granted permission, I got up, leaving all of my things, and hurried out of the classroom with my head down. But I didn't go to bathroom."

"Where'd you go?" I ask, intrigued to hear the rest of the story.

Claire narrows her gaze to the floor. "The hallways were empty. Classes were in session, so I knew it would be the best opportunity. I maneuvered my way to the front doors of the school, and walking straight ahead to the sidewalk. I quietly stood alone, looking both ways, and just waiting for a car to drive by. When I could finally see one, I calculated the perfect moment for me to run where it would be too late for the car to possibly brake. I readied myself, breathing deeply, and clenching my fists as I lifted one foot in front of the other. Although, the next thing I know, a car horn is blaring, swears are being shouted, and I can see blood on the pavement. I'm in a daze as I lay flat on my back, a blurry silhouette casting over me, and repeatedly tapping my cheek."

""Claire, wake up! Claire!" Evan yells, but I'm completely out of it. I then feel myself being lifted off of the ground, out of the street, and back over to the sidewalk. He gently puts me down, and by then I can open my eyes enough to see who had ran after me."

""What is your problem? What girl attempts suicide in the middle of school?" he says, and I reply, "You'd be surprised."" Claire recites, and it surprises me that she's not crying.

I'm quiet as I think of what to say, but Claire is already talking again. "We've been inseparable ever since, and it even leading to me staying over his house the night of the incident. That's when I met his brother. They're not twins, but I found his brother attractive. Although, apparently _too_ attractive. I eventually broke down into having sex with him, and unfortunately got pregnant. Evan could barely look at me after that, and since then I've been trying to rekindle what we had before I foolishly slept with his brother, but then Maya came around. The minute Evan laid eyes on her, he knew he had to be with her."

Sounded familiar.

"They were friends before they dated, obviously taking the time to get to know each other, and I guess that's when my animosity toward her started. She was taking all of Evan's attention away from me, foiling my plan for regaining his trust, and soon I was feeling invisible just like with my mom. Eventually over time, Evan did start acknowledging me again, but it was never the same. It still isn't. I wanted Maya out of the picture, and catching you two kissing finally gave me the opportunity. Now she's gone, and they're broken up. I know Evan's mad at me right now, but once he's had time to get over Maya, it'll be him and I again." Claire confesses, and I don't know what to say.

I bet Maya doesn't realize any of this, yet has always had to be victim to Claire's constant need for destruction. "And you're honestly happy about this?"

"Yes, I am." Claire replies, confidently. "It might've took a while, but it was worth it to finally have her gone."

"You do know if you're looking to be with Evan after this that there's no way he'll agree once he finds out what you did."

"Let him find out, I don't care. Evan's always known how I felt about Maya, and she's the one who cheated. All I did was supply Evan the evidence."

"You are such a bitch."

"Tell it to someone who cares." Claire says, viciously, and standing upright before walking toward the door.

I refuse to look over my shoulder at her, but can hear as she opens the door. "Don't worry. You'll be out of here before you know it, and then we'll never have to see each other again. You and Maya can then go be together, make a bunch of babies, and live happily ever after. Amazing, right?"

"Fuck you, Claire."

"Save it for Maya," she grunts, slamming the door behind her, and leaving me here alone.

Gosh, I wish Maya were here.

I slam my head back against the pillow, and blankly stare up at the ceiling as the thought of sleep is nothing more than a unsought urge. I couldn't possibly think about rest when Maya was somewhere—anywhere else but here with me, and all because Claire apparently couldn't handle even the mere sight of her.

It isn't fair.

Maya loved working at this hospital, and now is no longer allowed to step foot on the premises all because her and I had a moment—an incredible, memorable, enticing, sensual, lustful moment. It might've been nothing more than a few kisses, but I have no doubt in my mind that _a few_ will surely turn into many. We're meant to be together, and I hate to throw away any chance of that happening simply because I helped to get her expelled from her volunteer duties. I want to make it up to her somehow. I know she doesn't blame me for anything Claire caused, but it still doesn't feel right watching her suffer for something we both did. Besides, if Maya can't come back to the hospital, then staying here honestly feels pointless.

I want her here with me, or I don't want to be here at all.

I'm no longer going to have someone smiling at me like I'm the most precious person in the world. I won't have anyone to willingly keep me company. There's nobody now to sing to me, and lift my spirits with their amazing voice. I don't have anybody to laugh at their own corny jokes, or to look at me with an enormous amount of love and passion in their eyes. I can't feel her touch as she softly strokes my cheek, or climbs in bed with me as we talk or fall asleep watching TV.

And I don't have anyone truly believing in me.

I clench my jaw tightly, sulky and enraged as I imagine Maya laying here beside me, our hands intertwined and cheeks mutually red as we're both modest by the feel of the other's touch. It causes me to shout out in frustration, and I achingly start to sit back up before smashing my face into my hands; it truthfully amazing how much a girl can make me feel this way. I then lean forward with my elbows on my knees, bored out of mind and alone, but catching a glimpse of something from the corner of my eye. I turn my head with my eyes squinted, and reach toward my pillow where there's a folded piece of paper sticking out from underneath it.

My arms are shaking as I carefully skim the neatly written penmanship, and I'm quiet the minute I realize who it's from.

"Joshua? Joshua Matthews?" a panicked voice says, but I don't look up from the paper. "Are you all right? I thought I heard you yelling?" Warner states, frantic and alarmed.

I slowly raise my head to look at him as he stands in the doorway. I smirk at him keenly. "Can I borrow a phone, Dr. Warner? I also have one request,"

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

This chapter was pretty straightforward as it simply concludes the story lines with Jasmine and Claire.

 **Recap:**

1\. Josh finally confesses to Jasmine that he doesn't want to be with her.

2\. Claire explains why she dislikes Maya.

3\. Josh finds a letter from Maya.

Chapter Twelve will come once I receive enough reviews, and if I get enough then I'll post it later this evening according to my time zone. Thanks to everyone that read, followed, and reviewed. Much appreciation!


	12. Chapter 12

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Twelve || _A Tale of Two Letters_.

Ginger's fur is smooth and tangible as I softly stroke a hand along her back, admiring the sense of comfort she's graciously exuding. I haven't been able to give her much attention, what with all the madness that's been going on lately. From my audition to my relationship, and then being revoked of my volunteer privileges. It's been a chaotic couple of weeks, but the only thing that really hurts is the sudden inability to see Josh anymore, and just when things were starting to blossom between us. Regardless, I still find myself giddy with happiness any time the imagine of us kissing materializes in my mind, which happens more often than not.

Cheesy to say, but it was like one I've never experienced before. My kiss with him truly felt like undergoing a first kiss all over again as this was undoubtedly better than the original. Instead of fireworks, there were waves crashing as if we were standing on a beach together with nobody else around except the two of us; his hands firmly cupping my cheeks, while I stand on my toes, eager to reach his lips.

I kissed him because I wanted him to be sure of my feelings for him, and that nothing between us is one sided. I also meant it when I said I want to be with him, assuming it's what he wants too. Although, it sucks since I may never know for certain. Josh is still at the hospital and I'm stuck at home, wishing I was with him. I can only envision what we'd probably be doing right now if I was, and I wouldn't be surprised if kissing is at the very top of the list. Meanwhile, I still feel kind of bad about Evan, and how we were forced to end things on account of me. I may not regret what happened with Josh, and as sickly as it is to admit, Claire was right when she said he didn't deserve to suffer for any of this.

He hasn't tried contacting me since our breakup in the gift shop yesterday, and I can't say I blame him. He may claim he's okay and that he's not mad, but I've been with Evan long enough to know when he's not being truthful regarding his emotions. Even if he's not necessarily angry, I know he must be sulking, wishing how things could've been different, while simultaneously having Claire up his ass trying to console him, I'm sure.

Whatever, I guess.

Claire may not have liked my cheating on her apparent best friend and even if she was only trying to help, I don't think Evan appreciates her spying on me, and carelessly showing some cheap video she shot on her phone rather than trying to be gentle with his feelings. Claire hates my guts for a reason I'm still foggy about, but the only good thing about not being at the hospital is that I no longer have to see her face.

I still wish I could see Josh's face, but it's not like he'll be hospital bound forever. If he really wants to see me, then I'm sure he'll make the effort no matter how tedious.

There's a knock on my bedroom door, and I briefly pickup my phone to check the time. It's too early for dinner being that it's only five-thirty, so I wonder why someone would be bothering me, especially now of all times. Everybody knows by now how I'm no longer volunteering, and all I want to do is be alone and grieve. However, despite my request, the incessant knocking continues.

I groan, and roll my eyes. I sit up more, so my legs are crossed, and proceeding to hold Ginger in my lap. "Yeah, what do you want?" I respond, knowing there's a fair chance of it being my mom, and she will not be happy with the tone of my voice. Although, fortunately it's not her.

Grayson peeks his head in my room, spotting me on the bed, and the look on his face is sincere. "Hey," he mutters, reluctantly.

"Hi." I reply, monotone and solemn.

"Can I come in, or do you still want to be alone?" he asks, and it surprises me to have him genuinely asking rather than forcibly barging his way in like normally.

The thoughtfulness intrigues me, and I'm curious to know what for. I decide to invite him. "Sure… why not."

Grayson anxiously walks into the room, closing the door behind him, and as he approaches my bed, I notice that there's a laptop in his arms. I quirk a brow incredulously. "Scoot over?"

I do.

He sits down beside me, resting the laptop on his lap, and looks down at Ginger. The room is silent as he softly reaches to pet her, and I just stare at him. Why is he suddenly being so nice? I don't buy the nice brother façade for a second.

Eventually he smiles up at me, and the grin is full of remorse and tenderness. "What's up? Are you doing okay?"

"Not really. What's up with you?" I insinuate, and Grayson chuckles. He clearly senses my suspicion, which I'm glad I won't have to spell it out for him.

He shrugs. "You've been locked in your room ever since you came home yesterday. Mom and dad told me what happened, at least what you apparently told them, and I just wanted to say, I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not like you did anything."

"True, but… I figured you don't need an annoying brother bothering you when you're obviously upset. You know, I can be caring, too when I want." Grayson says, and I faintly smile at him. "Now between us, sister to brother, what _really_ happened yesterday?" he pries, and my eyes widen.

"Are you serious right now? I thought you said you knew!"

He sneers. "C'mon Maya, do you really think I'm that much of an idiot?" he says. "No way do I believe you quit volunteering at that hospital where you're never your happiest. Something happened, but you just don't want to admit what it is."

"And if you know this, then why are you trying to forcing it out of me?"

"Because that wouldn't make me a good brother."

"You're not really my brother!" I shout, frightening Ginger, and the minute the words leave my mouth, I instantly regret it.

Grayson visibly looks hurt, and I feel like such an idiot. He hasn't had the best life growing up, obviously, and it wasn't until my mom and Shawn agreed to adopt him that things ever got better for him. He may get on my nerves, as brothers should, but he's wanted this for so long now—a family to call his own. People who genuinely love and care about him, and here I am being a brat when he's only trying to comfort me.

He then smiles, attempting to ignore my vile comment, and it's crushing me on the inside. "I get it, and it's okay. You were an only child before I came along, so I understand if you don't see me as a brother, especially since we're not blood."

"Grayson…" I mumble, wanting to apologize, but I don't think it'll matter.

Grayson shakes his head. "No, seriously. Forget about it. It's not like you're _entirely_ wrong,"

"I still shouldn't have said it."

"But you're upset right now, so it's fine."

"That's still no excuse."

" _And I'm saying it's fine_ ," Grayson says, sternly. I stare at him speechlessly, my mouth agape, and eyes frantically searching his. "I know I'm not always nice to you, and it's because I'm still new to all this. I've been in a lot of foster homes, and it's given me this stereotypical mindset that it's the way siblings are _supposed_ to act with one another. I don't mean to be harsh on you or mean or annoying, and I'll stop it from now on. I rather have a relationship with you where we can hang out and enjoy being with the other, anyway. I _do_ love you Maya, as if you are my real sister, and I just want you to feel the same about me. But I know I can't force you to, so the least I can do is have it where you at least don't hate me."

"I don't hate you, Grayson." I say, immediately, and I think he actually believes me.

I lean against him as he hugs me, and it feels so nice. We may be the same age, but Grayson is older than me by a few months. I have always thought of what it would be like to have an older brother, and Grayson has given me that. He does tend to get of my nerves, but this moment right here between us truly makes up for all the fights we may have had, or times when we got the other in trouble.

We pull away from one another, and I see as Grayson starts chuckling. I look at him questionably. "What are you crying for?"

"Huh?" I say, wiping my face, and there's indeed tears on my fingers. I didn't even notice.

"It's so cute to see you so vulnerable," Grayson teases, and I shove him. "Usually you have this tough exterior like you need to have a wall up against everybody."

"People will walk all over you the minute they don't sense a backbone. I _need_ to be tough otherwise it'll happen."

Grayson scoffs. "Shut up, Maya. Here, I think it's time that I give you some big brother wisdom," he says, confidently. "Would you rather be friends with someone that's open and friendly, or friends with someone that's moody and confrontational?" Grayson quizzes me, and I obviously pick the first option.

"What's your point?"

"I'm saying to get rid of the wall. _Be_ vulnerable. _Be_ emotional. Be someone, who's not afraid to express their feelings even if that means possibly getting hurt. Trust me, I've come in contact with several different people and personalities, and nothing trumps someone that's always smiling, optimistic, and caring."

Sounds like Riley.

"You'll feel a lot better with yourself." Grayson says, and I warmly smile at him. Anybody could've literally given me the same advice, but hearing it from him— _from my brother_ —it feels a lot more special. "Now, can you please tell me what happened with you at the hospital?" he stresses, and I give in.

I tell Grayson all about patient, Joshua Matthews, and how I slowly found myself growing feelings for him. I told him about Claire and Evan, and everything leading up to my breakup. He understands now why I'm _really_ no longer allowed to volunteer anymore, and explaining it all out loud just has me feeling even more embarrassed.

I probably shouldn't have kissed Josh, but if I could do it all over again, _I would_.

I fixate my attention back on Grayson's laptop, and point at it. "So, uh, why do you have that with you?"

Grayson looks down, and then smiles at me slyly. "Oh, I almost forgot. Check this out," I watch as he opens the laptop, opening a web browser to YouTube, and searches something until finally I can see the video of my performance that I asked him to record pull up on the webpage.

I look at the screen completely dumbfounded and breathless. "Grayson, did you seriously…"

"Look, you already have over 26,000 views. Impressive, right?"

I narrow my eyes at him, still at a loss for words. "Yeah, it is but… I didn't say you could do this. Who told you it was a good idea to put this on the internet?" I interrogate, and almost on cue does Shawn's figure appear in the doorway of my bedroom.

His arms are crossed, while a delicate smile is laced along his mouth. He has on a jacket and boots as if he's about to go somewhere, and Grayson and I both look over at him. " _I_ asked him to do it. Hope you don't mind," Shawn admits, strolling into the room, and I can't seem to take my eyes off him.

He sits down on the edge of the bed where he can also watch the video, and the glimmer in his eyes as he gazes at my performance is nostalgic. I can sense the pitter-patter of my heartbeat, and I wish someone would just explain to me what the heck is going on.

"The comments aren't half bad either," Grayson mentions, scrolling underneath the video, and reading some of them aloud. Some are nice, and some are… not so nice, but I do have more thumbs up than down, so that must count for something, right?

I look back at Shawn curiously. "Why did you tell Grayson to do this?" I ask, and the look Shawn gives as he stares at me solemnly suddenly has me scared for the answer.

Shawn doesn't say anything. Instead, reaches into his back pocket, pulling out an envelope, and passing it over to me. It's already been opened, and on the front, is the name of Stuart Minkus' talent company, the one I auditioned for.

I look back at Shawn questionably. Silent. "I'm… I'm sorry I opened it. Your mom and I already know what it says," he retorts, and the tone of his voice automatically tells me that it's not good news.

However, Farkle already gave me the heads up, and I already got to cry about it, so I'm not planning to get emotional again. The letter of rejection just makes it feel more real.

I muster up some courage, reading the letter silently to myself, and then absentmindedly ripping it to pieces. It's not like I wanted it as a keepsake or anything.

"Maya?" Shawn whispers, soothingly, and I gaze up at him with the biggest grin on my face. A real one.

"What? I'm fine. I promise." _Thank you Farkle, or handling this letter otherwise would've been a real kick to the throat_. "I guess it wasn't meant to be, but I gave it my all. I can't ask for much more than that."

"Awe, that's the spirit!" Grayson exclaims, wrapping an arm around my neck, and squeezing me tightly.

 _And thank you Josh, for showing me that I don't need to sing to millions of people just to make my dreams come true_.

Shawn smiles. "Well, I'm glad you're handling this so well. _And a little suspicious_ ," he says, and my eyes wander around bashfully. "I figured I was going to have to do something to make you feel better, but maybe I don't have to anymore. I mean, unless you _want_ to."

"What is it?" I ask, Grayson and I both looking at him with interest.

He quietly looks back and forth between us, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Alright, I guess I'll tell you. As you know, I'm about to head back out to get more work done with my photography, and… I was going to invite you along with me."

"What!" Grayson and I say simultaneously, and Shawn nods.

"Wait, you mean we would be able to travel around with you and stuff, while you take pictures?"

" _We_?" I say, looking at Grayson quizzically. "I'm pretty sure this is for me."

"Yeah, but you're not sad anymore, so I can go too!"

"No, you can't!"

"Yes, I can!"

"Quiet!" Shawn bellows, immediately silencing us. He takes a deep breath, relaxing. "Both of you can come. I don't mind, and Katy already said it's okay." Shawn assures us, and Grayson already appears to be jumping up and down.

I notice as Shawn leans over to look at me, curious of my sudden silence. "Is that okay with you?" he asks.

I look at him, and then Grayson. I nod slowly. "Yeah, it's fine." I say, unconvincingly.

"Well, you still have a few days until I leave to think about it." Shawn says. "C'mon Gray. Let's get out of her room,"

"Alright, dad." Grayson complies, and closing his laptop as he gets off the bed. I don't stare at them directly as they prepare to leave. However, noticing from the corner of my eye another envelope being tossed onto my bed, except this one is unopened. I look at it as it lays beside me before looking back at Shawn, who purposely left it there for me.

He winks. "Something else also came in the mail for you," he says, and I don't have the slightest clue of what it could be. I look at him questionably, but he just follows Grayson out the room, closing the door behind them.

Once I'm alone again, I let go of Ginger, and she quickly scurries off of the bed. I then lean back against my pillow and contemplate, while holding the letter in my hands. In the top left corner of the envelope I can see the words _College of Charleston School of the Arts_ , and my eyes immediately widen. I didn't even apply there, so why am I receiving letters? At this rate, I don't know what to do. Shawn is usually gone for several months when he's working, traveling all across the world, and I would love nothing better than to experience different cities, countries, and cultures. It's like, how can I say no? And now this letter? Going to a school of the arts would be an amazing opportunity, but then what about…

My phone then starts to ring, and my heart instantly palpitates as I check the caller ID. I don't recognize the number, but still my gut is telling me to answer it. My hand is practically shaking as I press my thumb over the green button, and lift the phone to my ear. "Hello…" I mumble, not sure if the person can even hear me.

"Hi, Maya."

 _It's Josh_ , his voice low, smooth, and sincere. He found the letter I left for him with my number on it, and I couldn't be happier to be talking to him.

"I want to see you. Please, say yes." Josh declares, and he sounds determined.

 _Of course_.

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

TWO MORE CHAPTERS LEFT.

 **Recap:**

1\. Grayson and Maya share a moment.

2\. Maya sees her performance on YouTube.

3\. Maya gets accepted into a college.

4\. Josh calls Maya, requesting to see her.

Thanks to everyone that read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation!


	13. Chapter 13

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Thirteen || _Ready or Not_.

I don't know what it is Josh wants to talk about, but that he apparently wants to see me, and I want that too. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since we've last seen each other, and we're already missing one another. I broke up with Evan for this guy, and I'm still not one hundred percent certain he wants to be with me. I know our kiss should be more than enough reassurance, but we still don't know each other outside of 'patient' and 'volunteer'.

I can hear Josh smiling from over the phone, and I bashfully bite my lip. The way he makes me so nervous is ridiculous, yet an irresistible high that I never want to get rid of. "I know it hasn't been long since we saw each other, but how are you?" he asks, concerned.

I nod as if he can see me. "I'm sorry things happened the way they did," I reply, avoiding the obvious answer. I could always lie and say I'm fine, but now that I can't see Josh anymore, I'm a total wreck.

"Yeah, Claire is a bitch." Josh snarls. "I still didn't get over how she treated you, and that's why I had to talk to her."

I furrow my brows skeptically. "Wait, you did what?"

" _I talked to her_. I'm sorry Maya, but I couldn't let her get away with what she did to you, and not know why." Josh explains, and my insides flutter. I am so madly in love with this boy.

"What did you find out?"

"It's best you not know," Josh replies, and it only makes me want to know more. It's sweet that he's trying to spare my hurt feelings, though.

I plea, "C'mon Josh, I can take it. What did she tell you?" I pry, and Josh is temporarily silent.

He sighs. It's obvious he's still debating whether it's a good idea or not, but I think I have the right of knowing why someone doesn't like me. "Josh,"

"No, Maya. I'm sorry, but I won't. I couldn't do that to you." Josh says, sternly, and I can't be upset with him. He's not even officially my boyfriend, but he still continues to act like one.

I can sense my cheeks turning hot as I blush, content as Josh's attractive voice flows through my ears. "Are you mad?" he asks, delicately, noticing my sudden silence.

"No, Josh. I'm not." I assure him, and I can hear him sigh in relief. He's cute. "So, how are you doing without me? Are the nurses treating you nicely?" I ask, desperate to change the subject. I know there's other female volunteers, and now that I'm gone, one is destined to replace me.

"Uh, Evan has actually been the one taking care of me. It's weird," Josh murmurs. "he isn't treating me any differently considering I kissed you. He's either really easygoing about the whole thing, or very professional." Josh says, reluctantly.

Evan hopelessly tried to convince me that he's okay with us breaking up, and even though we ended things on a good note, I'm still not entirely sure he's truly fine with everything. Overall, Evan was immensely great to me. He didn't abuse me, hardly ever lost his temper, and consistently showered me with affection whether it be emotionally or materialistically. I don't know why I was so willing to throw it all away, but I have no doubt Josh has some great boyfriend qualities about him too.

I'm willing to be with him just to find out.

"Maya?" he says after I don't say anything for a while. I quietly hum and he responds, "Hi."

I giggle. "Hi, Josh."

"So, listen… I meant it when I said I want to see you. I talked to Warner, and we both agreed that I don't necessarily _have_ to stay admitted in the hospital any more. I'm well enough to be discharged, and I want us to meet up as soon as I am." Josh pleas, and I don't know what to say.

I scrunch my brows, speculating. "Uh, that's awesome, Josh—you getting out of the hospital, but… I thought you said you had nowhere to go? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Positive." Josh retorts, certain. "I know it sounds like I'm making demands, but I need to see you, Maya. I feel we parted on bad terms and unfinished business. And I swear, if I don't get to kiss you soon, then I might just fall apart." Josh confesses, and my stomach starts to churn.

He can't really expect to say things like that, and for me not to smile like a little girl on Christmas morning. The tone in his voice is hopeful, and I imagine his expression is melancholy from the mandatory separation. I want to see him just as badly; truthfully pining for his wispy touch as he gently holds me close by the waist, our chests pressed together, and the dreamy look in his eyes as he stares down at me like breaking contact will immediately have him lose me forever. I want to witness that lustful smirk of his, and hear him whisper my name so delicately as if I'm royalty. I want to hold hands, fingers interlaced, and thick silence surfacing around us as we peacefully enjoy the other's company. I want to be with him, to see where this takes us. We'll fight through any obstacle aiming to challenge or defy us, growing stronger, and keeping our love in tact.

I do love Josh. I love him a lot. Maybe even enough to be _in_ love with him, but I guess only time will tell.

A smile curls at the corner of my mouth, impatient to finally see his face again. "I broke up with Evan," I announce, feeling obligated to tell him, and Josh is quiet.

I'm sure he suspected as much, but it just feels more official actually telling him. "Really? Because of me?"

" _For_ you," I correct. "I broke up with him for you… for us. That sounds super lame and cheesy, but I knew something was special about you the minute you opened your eyes, and looked at me for the first time. You didn't look pained. You looked relaxed, at ease, and safe. It's like you already knew who I was even while asleep, and finally getting to see my face was like a dream come true or something. You knew whenever I was nearby, and listened anytime I had something to say. You could sense that I cared about you, probably more than a typical nurse should, but that's why you were drawn to me. Why you're _still_ drawn to me. Am I wrong?" I ask, innocently.

"No!" he replies, hurriedly, confirming my suspicions. "You're not wrong, Maya. I could always sense there was something great about you, and just by the little things you'd do. I'm just more amazed that you knew, too."

"So, what does this mean then?" I question, puzzled and bashful. Are we together, are we not together? Does he want to be with me, does he not? Decisions like this seemed more simpler when it came to Evan. He's the one that introduced me to the hospital, and where he formally asked me out. Beforehand, I did nothing more than go to school, and play guitar in my bedroom. I didn't have close friends, tending to keep to myself, and merely not fitting in with a lot of the people in my grade. I used to be the rebellious type, refusing to do my homework, and never putting in genuine effort unless it was for music or art. Although, when I selflessly agreed to start volunteering at the hospital, which started off as just a ruse to spend more time with Evan, I eventually began to feel bad.

People sick and wounded and sometimes hanging on by a thread as they're away from their friends and family, while fighting for their lives. The realization gave me a sense of salutary, and a clear perspective. Eventually I turned into this sweet, caring, thoughtful human being compared to the edgy girl, who wore black boots and dark colors, and didn't care what other people thought of me. Grayson says this side of me is more attractive, more approachable, and I'm slowly starting to believe him.

Josh nervously clears his throat, while probably ruffling through his hair. I envision he is, anyway. "Well, I guess the real question is… would you _want_ to date a 22-year-old like me?" he asks, and it's sweet that he's concerned, but entirely irrelevant.

I laugh. "Why is that the real question?"

"Well, I just mean—You know—People don't really—We're not—Ugh…" Josh groans, stumbling for an answer.

"Don't stress yourself out. _I want to be with you Josh_ , and a few years apart is not important to me. Although, what I am worried about is your friend…" I insinuate, voice tapering, and I don't want to sound jealous or anything, but I did break up with my boyfriend for him. I think he at least owes me an explanation regarding _her_.

"You mean, Jasmine?" he asks, and I nod _again_ as if he can see me until I finally respond. "Oh, we're good. We're just friends, and we always will be. Nothing more, nothing less." Josh assures, and I bite my lip.

 _Why can't I stop smiling?_

"Alright, if you say so. Go ahead then,"

"What do you mean?"

" _Say the words_." I urge, butterflies zealously beating their wings inside of my stomach as I literally feel like I'm going to pass out any second now.

Josh finally realizes what I'm asking, and I can tell he's nervous too; quiet as he gathers his thoughts. "Maya, I know we don't really know each other, but I'm determined to change that as quickly as possible. I want to see you, and I want to see you now. Is there any chance we can meet somewhere, just the two of us?" he pleas, and I temporarily can't get the words out as all I want to do is shout to the top of my lungs, and blast some music, while I bounce and dance around on my bed.

And I think I will.

I bite the tip of my thumb, grinning like an idiot, and say, " _Yes_."

.::.

"What do you mean, you're leaving? You can't even stand on your own two feet for more than three minutes without stumbling." Claire nags, arms folded over her chest. Ever since Maya's departure, she's been taking turns with Evan in terms of looking after me, and I can't take it anymore.

I roll my eyes. "What do you care? It's not like we like each other. You should be happy right now."

"I am, but you're clearly not fit to go anywhere."

"Since when did you actually start caring about the wellbeing of the patients here?"

Claire scoffs. "I've always cared."

"Yeah, not true but keep telling yourself that." I shrug, struggling to put on my shoes, while Claire helplessly stands there watching me. I honestly would much rather have Evan here with me than her, and that's saying a lot.

Claire begins to walk around, arms still crossed in front of her chest. "I don't know what you told Warner because there's no way he would allow a patient to just up and leave so easily."

"Like I told you, I'm fine. There's nothing I'm doing here that I can't do at home. It's just a straight recovery process with a decent amount of rest and exercise."

"And who do you expect to sign your release papers?" Claire interrogates, incredulously.

Since when did this become 21 questions?

Claire is intently looking at me as I gracelessly remove the hospital gown off, exposing my light six-pack, as her drooling quickly ceases the minute I put on a shirt. Can't forget the time she first met me, and called me hot, while mocking how large my ego probably is.

She licks her lips, tightening her jaw. "Is this all because of Maya?"

"And so what if it is,"

"Then you're insane. She voluntarily broke up with a great guy simply for another one. What makes you think she won't eventually do it to you?"

"That'll never happen." I say, confidently.

Claire looks at me with an eyebrow raised. "What are you saying, you plan to marry and be with this girl forever?"

I look at Claire pointedly. "I mean, I would love if that happened, but Maya and I are both still young. If we're fortunately together long enough, then I won't think twice about proposing to her. That's what happens when you find someone that you feel as if you can't live without. If Maya and I ever go through a time where she thinks she wants to end it with me, I will do everything in my powerful to make things right. I won't force anything on her, but I won't be giving her up so easily as if she meant absolutely nothing to me."

Claire smirks. "You're throwing a lot of shade Mr. Matthews," she teases. "but I still think you're nuts."

"Well, you're opinion doesn't really matter, now does it?" I snarl, and Claire's smile immediately disappears.

Once I'm dressed, I glance around the room one final time to make sure I'm not forgetting anything, and march to the doorway to walk out. Meanwhile, Claire is hot on my trail as I try to find my way to the elevator.

Would she just leave me alone already?

"Uh, is there a reason why you're following me?"

"I keep telling you, you're not well. Someone needs to at least be by your side until you're out the doors."

"Well, I'm so happy that's you…" I groan, sarcasm oozing from my lips, and Claire rolls her eyes.

We awkwardly ride down the elevator in silence, standing as far apart from each other as possible, and I instantly rush pass the doors the minute we reach the appropriate floor. I'm practically sprinting as I see Riley and my brother standing near the desk, and opening my arms as I embrace them.

"My brother!"

"My brother!" Cory and I say, patting each other on the backs, and the affection feels amazing. I haven't seen Cory since I first started college, and when he agreed to let me crash with him until I get back on my feet, I couldn't be happier.

"Now you're sure the doctor said it's okay for you to leave?" Cory asks, and I feverishly nod my head, thinking back to the conversation Dr. Warner and I had just moments prior to my phone call with Maya.

" _Joshua? Joshua Matthews?" a panicked voice says, but I don't look up from the paper. "Are you all right? I thought I heard you yelling?" Warner states, frantic and alarmed._

 _I slowly raise my head to look at him as he stands in the doorway. I smirk at him keenly. "Can I borrow a phone, Dr. Warner? I also have one request,"_

 _Warner looks at me skeptically, an eyebrow arched. "Depends. What is it?"_

" _Now just hear me out. I want you to keep an open mind, doc." I say, clearly puzzling him even more. He's quiet as he awaits the request. "I want to be released from the hospital. Tonight." I demand, and Dr. Warner's eyes grow wide._

" _Are you kidding? You're not well enough yet—"_

" _Aren't I?" I challenge, and Warner looks at me curiously. "You said it yourself that I don't need to have anymore tests done. All I'm continuing to do is rehab and rest, and it's not like I can't do that at home." I explain, pleading my case._

 _Warner is silent as he calculates my proposal, and I feel like I'm losing my mind, waiting for an answer. "I mean, we were going to run a few more tests on you. Just not anything too major."_

" _Come on, doc! There's a girl I desperately want to see, but I can't do that if I'm stuck in here for several more weeks! You have a wife, right?" I ask, and Warner almost looks taken aback by the sudden question about his spouse._

 _Nevertheless, he nods. "I do."_

" _And you love her, right? More than anything?" Once again, he agrees. "Then you know what I'm talking about! This girl and I, we don't know each other very well, but we both know there's something about the other that we can't get enough of. I need to be with her, and I'm positive she wants the same. You and your wife are happily married, I'm sure. You would never want anything bad to happen to her, and you enjoy any time you two get to be together. Well, that's how I feel. That's what I want, too. So, please Dr. Warner… give me permission to leave, so I can go be with her." I beg, damn near on my knees as I look at him hopelessly._

 _Warner's face appears strained as he contemplates a plausible answer. Eventually, he complies. "All right."_

" _All right?"_

" _Yes. I'll allow you to go, but I will be scheduling appointments for you to return, so we can evaluate your progress."_

" _Thanks, Dr. Warner! You won't regret this, I swear!"_

" _Let's hope not," he smiles, and squeezing my shoulder encouragingly._

I look at Cory with certainty. "Yes. I'm sure."

Him and Riley briefly exchange looks, grinning. "Alright, then." Cory states, turning to sign all the paperwork, officially releasing me back into the world.

When we're outside in the parking lot where the car is parked, I ask Cory my favor the minute we're inside and the doors are shut. "There's somewhere I need to be before we go home. Can you drive me?"

"What?" Cory chuckles. "You just got out of the hospital. Where could you possibly need to be?"

"Crank up the car, and I'll show you." I say, slyly.

Momentarily hesitant, but soon agreeing, Cory carefully cruises out of the lot and away from the hospital.

 _Here I come, Maya._

* * *

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW** , it only takes a minute to give a little feedback._

Who's ready for the **final** chapter?

 **Recap:**

1\. Maya agrees to meet Josh.

2\. Josh is finally discharged from the hospital.

Thanks to all that read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation!


	14. Chapter 14

**Written in the Scars**

Chapter Fourteen || _Love is Worth Chasing_.

There's a slight breeze in the air as the sun starts to set—the previously blue sky now a perfect canvas as streaks of pink, purple, and orange are painted across earth's atmosphere. Josh stands alone, anxious and impatient as he awaits a certain blonde's arrival. It's been at least seven minutes since Cory dropped him off at the mutual location him and Maya both agreed to meet, and his heart is steadily palpitating, nervous of what to expect. He knows they talked on the phone and that it's barely been a day since seeing one another, but that was one day too many.

Josh finally wants to tell her what he's been dying to say since the minute they made contact. He wants to passionately confess his love for her, and prays she'll feel the same way. Josh suspects that it's already obvious that she does, but it's one thing to confess over the phone, and another to do it face to face.

To him, Maya's beauty is like no other. Of course, he's seen his fair share of pretty girls, but Maya's statuesque features are incomparable. From her long, vivacious blonde hair to her angelic blue eyes, she's a walking princess straight out of a fairy-tale. His unwarranted kiss with Jasmine just made him appreciate the kiss with Maya more, and he can't wait until the moment he's able to do it again.

 _He wouldn't hold back_.

Josh recollects back to the talk he had with Maya in the baby department of the hospital regarding her skepticism about having kids, and hopelessly wishes to change her mind and give her reassurance. He has no doubt that the blonde would be a perfectly fit mother, and he a great father. They'd care and look after their child, make decisions together, and love their son or daughter unconditionally. Maya has no reason to be afraid of parenthood, especially if he's by her side every step of the way.

By now, the sun is completely gone as dusk falls, and Josh is admittedly beginning to worry. He doesn't have a phone to contact her with, considering he misplaced his during the car crash, and asked for complete privacy. Therefore, didn't have Cory's or Riley's phones to borrow. Josh is certain Maya wouldn't stand him up, but can't help wondering why it's taking her longer than necessary to show up.

As he continues to wait, hearing footsteps behind him, and quickly turning his head in hopes that it's Maya, but is disappointed when it's only a male jogger passing by.

Josh sighs, lowering his head, and stuffing his hands into his pockets. He doesn't pay the jogger any mind, so doesn't realize when he comes back over to him.

The stranger looks at him curiously. "Josh?"

Josh lifts his head, and glancing to his right to see Andrew. A smile instantly stretches along his lips. "Andrew, what's up?"

"It's good to see you, man." Andrew replies, hugging Josh compassionately, and taking a step back to get a good look at him. "Jasmine told me you we're getting out of the hospital, I just didn't think it'd be _this_ soon."

"Yeah, well, I have some business to take care of so… It couldn't wait any more."

"Regardless, I'm happy to see you're okay. And listen, I know I didn't visit as much as Jasmine, and I'm sorry about that."

"Don't sweat it," Josh says, waving his hand dismissively. "It's okay. I'm not going to hold it against you. One visit from you is more than enough in my case."

Andrew purses his lips and nods. "And have you talked to Jasmine about… you two? She doesn't know that I know, but it's obvious she has a thing for you. Did you tell it to her straight?"

"I did," Josh replies. "I know how she feels about me, and I'm sure it won't be easy for her to get over me, but there's already a girl I have my eyes on, and I want nothing more than to be with her."

Andrew wriggles his eyebrows. "I already know who it is. It's that blonde girl, who volunteers at the hospital, right?" he says, knowingly.

Josh can't help but to smile and blush. He shyly runs a hand down the back of his neck. "Accurate guess. How did you know?"

Andrew shrugs. "She seems like your type. Hey, if she likes you too, then go for it. From what I know, I think she can be good for you. She's younger, but she's mature. Probably more than the older girls we got running around campus now." Andrew sneers, and Josh chuckles.

"I know, right? Just another one of the reasons why I like her so much…" Josh tapers, breathless as an image of Maya materializes in his mind.

He can't wait to finally see her.

"What's the main reason?" Andrew inquires, and Josh looks at him pointedly.

He isn't sure if he has one main thing that he likes about Maya, but if he had to pick just one… "Well, her singing voice is amazing. You can't help but feel at ease whenever she sings. I also like her smile. I swear, it's contagious. But I guess the one thing I like above all else is… _that she likes me_." Josh admits, and a teasing grin forms on Andrew's mouth.

"That she likes you, huh. And why is that your favorite thing?"

"Because, man—okay, I've had girlfriends in the past, but for one reason or another, all the relationships ended. Although, Maya… she's the one girl I think I'm supposed to be with. The way she talked to me when I was in the hospital, saying that I should've died, she gave me purpose again. She gave me hope, and a new mindset. I think that's what I'm attracted to the most. There's a passion in her voice whenever she talks to me or looks at me or touches me, and I can honestly say that no other girl has cared about me the way she does. I would be insane to let her get away, at least not before seeing if there's anything between us."

"Is that why you're standing out here on a bridge in the middle of a park?" Andrew questions, and Josh nods.

"We're supposed to be meeting up, and I'm just waiting for her to get here. It seems like she's taking forever, but I guess I am kind of early. I'm just so excited to be with her, you know?" Josh responds, a bubbly smile on his cheeks.

Andrew reaches to pat his shoulder. "I'm rooting for you two then. When you find someone that makes you feel like Maya's got you feeling, then you shouldn't stop at anything until they're yours."

"My thoughts exactly," Josh says, and Andrew steps back, preparing to finish jogging.

"I'm gonna get going. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah." Josh nods.

Andrew begins to run off again, but quickly stops as he looks back at Josh and shouts, "Oh, and don't think you can't come back to school! The door is always open for you, man!"

Josh doesn't respond, but dwells in the reassurance. He simply nods his head, and watching Andrew jog off until he's completely out of sight. Josh leans against the edge of the bridge, staring below at the pond, and proceeding to wait for Maya. He'd wait all night if that meant getting to see her, but hopefully she'll be showing up sooner rather than later.

Minutes continue go by, and Josh still proceeds to wait. It's approximately almost eight o'clock, and the park is fairly empty for the most part. Josh frantically combs his hands through his hair, beginning to pace back and forth, while speculating the worse case scenarios. Did Maya change her mind? Is she not interested in him anymore?

"Josh!" a voice yells, disrupting Josh's thoughts. He quickly spins around, familiar with the voice, and catches glimpse of a stunning blonde running toward him.

A huge smile curls onto his lips, and he promptly opens his arms, welcoming her in. Maya cheerfully runs into Josh's embrace, feet lifting up off of the ground, and laughing uncontrollably as he spins the two of them around.

Josh then softly sets her back down, leaving only inches between them, and intensely stares at the petite girl in front of him. Her eyes literally seem to glimmer as she looks at him warmly, and Josh can feel his heart skip a beat. "I've waited too long for this," he says, his voice low and smooth as he watches Maya bite the corner of her lip—a tactic of hers usually done whenever she's shy or happy.

"Me too." Maya replies. "And I'm sorry I took so long. It took a while to convince my stepdad to drive me to go meet someone, especially when I said it's a boy. He's very protective." Maya groans, rolling her eyes.

Josh chuckles. "It's fine. Makes sense." he says before eyeballing the gift bag Maya has clutched in her hand, and points a finger at it. "What's that?"

"Oh, I almost forgot. _It's actually for you_. It's kind of why I took so long. I stopped to get you something." Maya admits, and handing Josh the bag.

He reluctantly grabs it from her. "Really? You know you didn't have to—"

" _But I wanted to_. Just think of it as a present for getting through your accident. You didn't give up, and I'm proud of you. I know it's easy to say that you should've died, but just be thankful that you didn't." Maya explains, and Josh briefly reaches back in to hug her.

"You're awesome,"

"I know." Maya jokes.

Josh opens the bag, sifting through the colored tissue paper, and pulling out a rectangular black box. He glances back at Maya suspiciously smirking. "Jewelry, huh? Well, the box is too big, so I assume it's not an engagement ring."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Maya asks, slyly.

Josh innocently shrugs his shoulders. "Very much, yeah. But let's see what it really is then," he retorts, hanging the bag on his wrist, and opening the box with his free hand to expose a silver dog tag necklace with an engraving inscribed along the surface. Josh slightly narrows his gaze toward Maya before glancing back at the message,

 _Smile, you made it_

Breathless, Josh's mouth is ajar as he stammers for something to say. "I'm stuck…" he moans, and Maya furrows her eyebrows, confused.

"What do you mean, stuck?"

"I'm stuck because I don't know whether to hug you or to kiss you," Josh states, and Maya's cheeks brightly turn red.

"I guess that means you like it."

"Why wouldn't I?" Josh murmurs, inching closer, and caressing Maya's cheek as she intently looks up at him.

She notably glances at his lips, slowly moving forward, and watching as his mouth moves down to hers. Josh's lips gingerly grazes Maya's, breathing steady, and heartbeat quickening; their lips almost fully connecting until she suddenly backs away. Josh looks at Maya questionably, acknowledging her concerned expression, and how she's struggling to look at him.

"Maya?"

"Josh," Maya says, desperately. She doesn't say anything else after that. Instead, pulling an envelope out of her back pocket, and handing it to Josh. He stares at it, puzzled and curious. Josh hesitantly takes it, noticing that it's unopened, and silently looks at her. "It's a letter from the _College of Charleston School of the Arts_ in South Carolina. I didn't open it yet. I kind of want you to do it…" Maya explains, and Josh looks at the envelope nonchalantly.

"You applied here?"

Maya quickly shakes her head. "No, I didn't! But somehow they know about me, and sent this to me."

"Probably because of the audition." Josh presumes, and Maya's face distorts.

"You think so?"

Josh purses his lips, nodding. "I mean, sure. Only one way to find out, though…" he tapers, and carefully beginning to tear open the letter. His eyes steadily skim the page, quiet as he takes in every word, sentence, and phrase. "They're interested." Josh mutters after a short period of silence.

Maya's eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"That's basically what it says. They want you to get in contact with them if you're interested, too. They're also willing to give you a full scholarship."

"This can't be happening," Maya says, wondering what the odds are. "I don't know what to do…"

"It's kind of simple actually." Josh retorts, and Maya looks at him.

She quirks a brow. "How so?"

"It's all a matter of what you want. What's going to make you happy,"

"But what about this?" Maya says. "What about us? I don't want to leave when we were finally starting to get to know each other.

"Believe me, I want nothing more than for us to be together, but us not knowing each other very well should ultimately make your decision easier then. After all, we don't have any genuine attachments to each other."

"Josh…" Maya mumbles, noting the sorrowful tone of his voice. "You don't mean that."

" _I do_. We don't have anything truly keeping us together, so if this is something you think you want to do, I will support you one hundred percent."

"I know and I appreciate that, but Josh…" Maya moans, voice cracking as she walks over to the edge of the bridge. She can sense Josh coming to stand beside her, the both of them gazing down at the water. " _Say you want to be with me_." Maya demands, her tone stern.

Josh looks at her profile intently. "Of course, I want to be with you, Maya."

"Then why are you making this so hard?" Maya exclaims, tears welling up in her eyes.

Josh quietly looks away, solemn. "Maya, don't do this."

"What difference does it make? It feels like you're already pushing me away."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Then what is it!" Maya yells. "I already know what a great opportunity this is, I don't need you to tell me this! What I _do_ need is for you to convince me not to go! I need to know that you want me just as much as I want you!" Maya blurts, cheeks flushed, and Josh looks at her with his eyes wide.

Her glassy blue eyes, rosy red cheeks, and blonde strands of hair fallen in front of her face, Josh can't get over how absolutely breathtaking she appears even upset. Although, he wishes the circumstances were different.

Josh strongly pulls Maya in, his hands cupping her cheeks, and soothingly pressing his lips to hers. He doesn't waste a second, longing to show her just how much she means to him; their kiss starting off slow and passionate, and then quickly turning seductive with their tongues tangling and unintentional moans escaping.

Maya momentarily ceases, whispering along Josh's lips. " _I want you to follow me_ ," she says, subtly announcing her agreement to the college offer, and Josh smirks.

"You got it," he responds, pressing his lips to hers again, and shifting his hands gracefully to her hips, while hers move to his neck.

The kissing vigorously continues, moonlight beaming as they indulge into each other under the invisible stars. Afterwards, sauntering over to a nearby bench, and cuddling as they peacefully sit with one another. Maya's head lays on Josh's shoulder, their hands intertwined, and emotions lustful.

Josh parts his lips to speak, his cheek laying against the top of Maya's head. "What are you thinking about?" he asks, delicately.

Maya grins. "Thinking about a lot of things, but mainly thinking about you. Finally being together honestly feels surreal,"

"Yeah, I know." Josh mumbles, and Maya glances up to look at him. He briefly pecks her nose, causing her to giggle; it reminding him so much of their lunch date back at the hospital.

"Oh, yeah! I made another promise to you, didn't I?" Maya says, rhetorically, and reaching into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone.

Josh watches as she presses a certain app, lightly typing along the screen, and subsequently displaying the phone, so he can see it too.

It's the video of her performance—the one Grayson filmed and uploaded to YouTube, and Josh's eyes are glued to the screen as he watches every movement Maya makes, and listens to every note she sings. He'd been waiting so long to hear her voice and see her audition, and only believing that her decision to go to college is unmistakably the right choice.

Once the video ends, Maya puts her phone away, and sitting still as her and Josh gaze at one another dreamily. "I'm glad you're going to keep singing."

"And I have you to thank."

"No, I didn't do nothing. This is all _you_." Josh assures, and Maya playfully rolls her eyes.

Silence arises, and Josh is visibly caught looking between Maya's eyes and her lips. The phrase is on the tip of his tongue, and Maya looks at him incredulously.

 _It's still too early_.

"You okay? You look like you're thinking really hard about something."

"I am… but it can wait."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Maya looks at him suspiciously, wanting to ask more, but isn't giving the chance when Josh softly pulls her face close to kiss her. She eventually forgets what it is she even wanted to say, although probably for the best.

* * *

 _ **BIG THANKS TO ALL OF YOU**_ , this story is officially complete, and I am immensely grateful to every single one of you that continued to read even after my hiatus, and showing your appreciation. I love this ship with a passion, and will proceed to write for them as long as the ideas and motivation stick with me.

 _ **Written in the Scars**_ is now my second successfully completed Joshaya story, and I will miss it dearly. However, it isn't over. My NEW Joshaya story is currently published, so if you're a fan of my works and aren't tired of reading Joshaya, then head over to my profile. It's entitled _**Summer Daze**_ , and I hope you guys like it.

And as always, thanks to everyone that read, reviewed, and followed. Much appreciation!

Lastly, here's a small excerpt from _**Summer Daze**_ for any of you possibly interested in reading it:

 _Josh shyly licks and parts his lips, and eyes steady as they refuse to look anywhere other than Maya's mouth; her lips plump and glazed with a fruity chap-stick. He starts to lean forward, highly aware, and soon with the realization that Maya isn't trying stop him. His lips nearly touch hers, a mere graze, and breath hot as the rapid beating of his heart temporarily subsides. Josh lightly puckers his lips, eyes closing, and aiming to fully execute the kiss until clapping and the feel of an audience breaks the two of them apart._


End file.
